3  1822022365720 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

•       SAN  DIEGO 


Social  Sciences  &  Humanities  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall. 

Date  Due 


p:, 
3 


331. 


__mrp  %  ?  1997 

SEP   0  1  199° 

4- 

mi 

0139(5/97)                                                                         UCSDLib. 

JN  VERS  TY  OF  CAL  FORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822022365720 


THE  STORM   DANCE 


A  JAPANESE 
NIGHTINGALE 

tjy 

i 

ONOTO  WATANNA 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 

GENJIRO  VETO 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
HARPER  6-  BROTHERS 
PUBLISHERS  M-C-M-I-I-I 

" 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAG* 

I.  THE  STORM  DANCE  ....    ^>w 

II.  IN   WHICH   WOMAN  PROPOSES 

AND  MAN  DISPOSES.    .    .    .  16 

III.  AN  APPOINTMENT 34 

IV.  IN  WHICH  MAN  PROPOSES    .    .  46 

V.  IN  WHICH  THE  EAST  AND  THE 

WEST  ARE  UNITED  ....    57 

VI.  THE  ADVENTURESS 66 

VII.  MY  WIFE! 81 

VIII.  YUKI'S  HOME 94 

IX.  THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY    .    .  107 

X.  A  BAD  OMEN .121 

XI.  THE  NIGHTINGALE 131 

XII.  TARO  BURTON 137 

XIII.  IN  WHICH  Two  MEN  LEARN  OF 

A  SISTER'S  SACRIFICE  .    .    .148 

XIV.  A  STRUGGLE  IN  THE  NIGHT.    .  165 

XV.  THE  Vow 177 

XVI.  A  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE     .    .    .    .  188 

XVII.  YUKI'S  WANDERINGS     ....  203 

XVIII.  THE  SEASON  OF  THE  CHERRY 

BLOSSOM 215 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  STORM  DANCE  ....  FroMtispiect 

THE  NIGHTINGALE  SONG  .  .  Facing}.  134 
"THE  THOUSAND  PETALS  OP 

CHERRY   BLOSSOMS    WERE 

FALLING  ABOUT  THEM"  .  "          224 


A   JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

THE  last  rays  of  sunset  were  tinge- 
ing  the  land,  lingering  in  splendor  above 
the  bay.  The  waters  had  caught  the 
golden  glow,  and,  miser-like,  seeming 
ly  made  effort  to  keep  it  with  them; 
but,  inexorably,  the  lowering  sun  drew 
away  its  gilding  light,  leaving  the 
waters  a  dark  green.  The  shadows 
began  to  darken,  faint  stars  peeped  out 
of  the  heavens,  and  slowly,  unwillingly, 
the  day's  last  ray  followed  the  sunken 
sun  to  rest;  and  with  its  vanishment 
a  pale  moon  stole  overhead  and  threw 
a  seraphic  light  over  all  things. 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Out  in  the  bay  that  the  sun  had  left 
was  a  tiny  island,  and  on  this  a  Jaj>- 
anese  business  man,  who  must  also 
have  been  an  artist,  had  built  a  tea 
house  and  laid  out  a  garden.  Such 
an  island!  In  the  sorcerous  moon 
light,  one  might  easil}7  believe  it  the 
witch -work  of  an  Oriental  Merlin. 
Running  in  every  direction  were  nar 
row  jinrikisha  roads,  which  crossed 
bewildering  little  creeks,  spanned  by 
entrancing  bridges.  These  were  round 
and  high,  and  curved  in  the  centre, 
and  clinging  vines  and  creeping, 
nameless  flowers  crawled  up  the  sides 
and  twined  about  the  tiny  steps  which 
ascended  to  the  bridges.  After  crossing 
a  bridge  shaped  thus,  a  straight  bridge 
is  forever  an  outrage  to  the  eye  and 
sense.  And  all  along  the  beach  of  this 
island  was  pure  white  sand,  which 
looked  weirdly  whiter  where  the  moon 
beams  loitered  and  played  hide-and- 
seek  under  the  tree-shadows. 

The  seekers  of  pleasure  who  made 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

their  way  out  to  the  little  island  on 
this  night  moored  their  boats  here 
in  the  shadows  beneath  the  trees, 
and  drove  in  fairy  vehicles,  pulled 
by  picturesque  runners,  clear  around 
the  island,  under  the  pine-trees,  over 
miniature  brooks,  into  the  mysterious 
dark  of  a  forest.  Suddenly  they  were 
in  a  blaze  of  swinging,  dazzling  lights, 
laughter  and  music,  chatter,  the  clat 
tering  of  dishes,  the  twang  of  the  sami- 
sen,  the  ron-ton-ton  of  the  biwa.  They 
had  reached  the  garden  and  the  tea 
house. 

Some  pleasure-loving  Japanese  were 
giving  a  banquet  in  honor  of  the  full 
moon,  and  the  moon,  just  over  their 
heads,  clothed  in  glorious  raiment, 
and  sitting  on  a  sky-throne  of  lumi 
nous  silver,  was  attending  the  ban 
quet  in  person,  surrounded  by  myriad 
twinkling  stars,  who  played  at  being 
her  courtiers.  Each  of  the  guests 
had  his  own  little  mat,  table,  and  wait 
ress.  They  sat  in  a  semicircle,  and 
3 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

drank  the  sake  hot,  in  tiny  cups  that 
went  thirty  or  more  to  the  pint;  or  the 
Kyoto  beer  that  had  been  ordered  for 
the  foreigners  who  were  the  chief 
guests  this  evening.  This  is  the  toast 
the  Japanese  made  to  the  moon: 
"May  she  with  us  drink  a  cup  of  im 
mortality!"  and  then  each  wished  the 
one  nearest  him  ten  thousand  years 
of  joy. 

Xow  the  moon-path  widened  on  the 
bay,  and  the  moon  itself  expanded  and 
grew  more  luminous  as  though  in 
proud  sympathy  and  understanding 
of  the  thousand  banquets  held  in  her 
honor  this  night.  All  the  music  and 
noise  and  clatter  and  revel  had  grad 
ually  ceased,  and  for  a  time  an  elo 
quent  silence  was  everywhere.  Huge 
glowing  fire  -  flies,  flitting  back  and 
forth  like  tiny  twinkling  stars,  seemed 
to  be  the  only  things  stirring. 

Some  one  snuffed  the  candles  in  the 
lanterns,  and  threw  a  large  mat  in  the 
centre  of  the  garden,  and  dusted  it  ex- 
4 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

travagantly  with  rice  flour.  Then  a 
shaft  of  light,  that  might  have  been 
the  combination  of  a  thousand  moon 
beams,  was  flashed  on  the  mat  from 
an  opening  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
house,  and  out  of  the  shadows  sprang 
on  to  the  mat  a  wild,  vivid  little  figure, 
clad  in  scintillating  robes  that  reflect 
ed  every  ray  of  light  thrown  on  them; 
and,  with  her  coming,  the  air  was 
filled  with  the  weird,  wholly  fascinat 
ing  music  of  the  koto  and  samisen. 

She  pirouetted  around  on  the  tips 
of  the  toes  of  one  little  foot,  clapped 
her  hands,  and  courtesied  to  the  four 
corners  of  the  earth.  Her  dance  was 
one  of  the  body  rather  than  of  the  feet, 
as  back  and  forth  she  swerved.  There 
was  a  patter,  patter,  patter.  Her  gar 
ments  seemed  endowed  with  life,  and 
took  on  a  sorrowing  appearance;  the 
lights  changed  to  accompany  her; 
the  music  sobbed  and  quivered.  It  had 
begun  to  rain!  She  was  raining!  It 
seemed  almost  as  if  the  pitter-patter  of 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

her  feet  were  the  falling  of  tiny  rain 
drops;  the  sadness  of  her  garments 
had  increased,  and  now  they  seemed 
to  be  weeping,  at  first  gradually,  then 
faster  and  still  faster,  until  finally 
she  was  a  storm — a  dark,  blowing, 
lightning  storm.  From  above  the  light 
shot  down  in  quick,  sharp  flashes,  the 
drums  clashed  madly,  the  koto  wept  on, 
and  the  samisen  shrieked  vindictively. 

Suddenly  the  storm  quieted  down 
and  ceased.  A  blue  light  flung  it 
self  against  the  now  lightly  swaying 
figure;  then  the  seven  colors  of  the 
spectrum  flashed  on  her  at  once.  She 
spread  her  garments  wide;  they  flut 
tered  about  her  in  a  large  half-circle, 
and,  underneath  the  rainbow  of  the 
gown,  a  girl's  face,  of  exquisite  beauty, 
smiled  and  drooped.  Then  the  ex 
tinction  of  light — and  she  was  gone. 

A  common   cry  of  admiration   and 

wonder  broke  out  from  Japanese  and 

foreigners  alike.     They  called  for  her, 

clapped,    stamped,    whistled,    cheered. 

6 


y/  ~ 


THE    STORM    DANCE 


One  man's  voice  rose  above  the  clatter 
of  noises  that  had  broken  loose  all  over 
the  gardens.  He  was  demanding  ex 
citedly  of  the  proprietor  to  tell  him 
who  she  was. 

The  proprietor,  smirking  and  bow 
ing  and  cringing,  nevertheless  would 
not  tell. 

The  American  theatrical  manager 
lost  his  head  a  moment.  He  could  make 
that  girl's  fortune  in  America!  He 
understood  it  was  possible  to  purchase 
a  geisha  for  a  certain  term  of  years. 
He  stood  ready  on  the  spot  to  do  this. 
He  was  ready  to  offer  a  good  price  for 
her.  Who  was  she,  and  where  did  she 
live? 

Meanwhile  the  nerve-scraping  dzin, 
dzin,  dzin  of  a  samisen  was  disturb 
ing  the  air  with  teasing  persistence. 
There  is  something  provoking  and 
still  alluring  in  the  music  of  the  sami 
sen.  It  startles  the  chills  in  the  blood 
like  the  maddening  scraping  of  a  piece 
of  metal  against  stone,  and  still  there 
7 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

is  an  indescribable  fascination  and 
beauty  about  it.  Now  as  it  scratched 
and  squealed  intermittently  and  grad 
ually  twittered  down  to  a  zoom,  zoom, 
zoom,  a  voice  rose  softly,  and  gently, 
insinuatingly,  it  entered  into  the  music 
of  the  samisen.  Only  one  long  note 
had  broken  loose,  which  neither  trem 
bled  nor  wavered.  When  it  had  ended 
none  could  say,  only  that  it  had  passed 
into  other  notes  as  strangely  beautiful, 
and  a  girl  was  singing. 

Again  the  light  flashed  down  and 
showed  her  standing  on  the  same  mat 
on  which  she  had  danced,  her  hands 
clasped,  her  face  raised.  She  was 
ethereal,  divinely  so.  Her  kimono  was 
all  white,  save  where  the  shaft  of  moon 
beams  touched  the  silk  to  silvery  brill 
iance.  And  her  voice!  All  the  notes 
were  minors,  piercing,  sweet,  melan 
choly  —  terribly  beautiful.  She  was 
singing  music  unheard  in  any  land 
save  the  Orient,  and  now  for  the  first 
time,  perhaps,  appreciated  by  the  for- 
8 


THE   STORM    DANCE 

eigners,  because  of  that  voice — a  voice 
meant  for  just  such  a  medley  of  melody. 
And  when  she  had  ceased,  the  last  note 
had  not  died  out,  did  not  fall,  but  re 
mained  raised,  unfinished,  giving  to 
the  Occidental  ears  a  sense  of  incom 
pleteness.  Her  audience  leaned  for 
ward,  peering  into  the  darkness,  wait 
ing  for  the  end. 

The  American  theatrical  manager 
stalked  towards  the  light,  which  lin 
gered  a  moment,  and  died  out,  as  if 
by  magic,  as  he  reached  it.  But  the 
girl  was  gone. 

"By  Jove!  She's  great!"  he  cried 
out,  enthusiastically.  Then  he  turn 
ed  on  the  proprietor.  "Where  is  she? 
Where  can  I  find  her?" 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"Oh,  come,  now,"  the  American  de 
manded,  impatiently,  "I'll  pay  you." 

"I  don'  know.     She  is  gone." 

"  But  you  know  where  she  lives?" 

The  proprietor  again  answered  in 
the  negative. 

9 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Now,  wouldn't  that  make  one  of 
this  country's  squatty  little  gods 
groan?"  the  exasperated  manager  de 
manded  of  a  younger  man  who  had 
followed  him  forward. 

"She'd  be  a  great  card  in  vaude 
ville,"  the  young  man  contented  him 
self  with  saying.  / 

"There's  a  fortune  in  her!     I'm  go-    * 
ing  to  find  her  if  she's  on  this  island. 
Come  on  with  me,  will  you?" 

Nothing  loath,  Jack  Bigelow  fared 
forth  behind  the  theatrical  man,  whom 
he  had  never  seen  before  that  after 
noon,  and  wrhom  he  never  expected  to 
see  again.  They  hurried  down  one 
of  the  narrow,  shadowy  roads  that 
almost  made  a  labyrinth  of  the  island. 
But  fortune  was  with  them.  A  turn 
in  the  road,  which  showed  the  waters 
of  the  bay  not  fifty  yards  ahead,  re 
vealed  just  in  front  of  them  two  figures 
— two  women — both  small,  but  one  a 
trifle  taller  than  her  companion. 

"Hi     there!     You!"      shouted     the 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

manager,  who,  though  among  a  people 
whose  civilization  was  older  than  his 
own,  considered  them  but  heathen, 
and  gave  them  the  scant  courtesy  de 
served  by  all  so  benighted  in  matters 
theatrical.  The  two  figures  suddenly 
stopped. 

"Are  you  the  girl  who  sang?" 
"Yes,"  came  the  answer  in  a  clear 
voice  from  the  taller  figure. 

The  manager  was  not  slow  in  com- 

>ing  to  the  point. 
"Would  you  like  to  be  rich?" 

Again  the  positive  monosyllable,  ut 
tered  with  much  eagerness. 

"Good!"  The  manager's  face  could 
not  be  seen,  but  his  satisfaction  was 
revealed  in  his  voice.  "  Just  come  with 
me  to  America,  and  your  fortune's 
made!" 

She  stood  silent,  her  head  down, 
so  that  the  manager  prompted  her 
impatiently:  "Well?" 

"I  stay  ad  Japan,"  she  said. 

"Stay    at    Japan!"    The    manager 
ii 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

barely  controlled  himself.  "Why,  you 
can  never  get  rich  in  this  land.  Now 
look-a-herc — I'll  call  and  see  you  to 
morrow.  Where  do  you  live?" 

"  I  don'  want  you  call.  I  stay  ad 
Japan." 

This  time  the  manager,  seeing  a 
possible  fortune  escaping  him,  and 
having  in  mind  the  courtesy  due  the 
heathen,  delivered  himself  of  a  large 
Christian  oath.  "If  you  stay  here, 
you're  a  fool.  You'll  never — " 

The  young  man  named  Bigelow, 
who  had  watched  the  attempted  bar 
gaining  in  silence,  broke  in  with  some 
indignation.  "Oh,  let  her  go!  She's 
got  a  right  to  do  as  she  pleases,  you 
know.  Don't  try  to  bully  her  into 
going  to  America  if  she'd  rather  stay 
here." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  can't  use  force  to 
make  her  take  a  good  thing,"  said 
the  manager,  ungraciously.  He  drew 
out  his  card-case  and  handed  the  girl 
his  card.  "Perhaps  you'll  change 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

your  mind  after  you  think  about  this 
a  bit.  If  you  do,  my  name  and  Tokyo 
address  are  on  that  card;  just  come 
round  and  see  me.  I'm  going  down 
to  Bombay  to  look  out  for  some  Ind 
ian  jugglers.  I'll  be  gone  about  five 
months,  and  will  be  back  in  Tokyo 
before  I  start  out  on  another  trip  to 
China,  Corea,  and  the  Philippines, 
and  then  off  for  home." 

The  girl  took  the  card  and  listened 
in  silence ;  when  he  finished,  she  courte- 
sied,  slipped  a  hand  into  that  of  her 
companion,  and  hurried  down  the  nar 
row  road. 

After  the  two  Americans  had  made 
their  way  back  to  the  tea-garden,  the 
older  one  at  once  sought  out  the  pro 
prietor. 

"You  know  something  about  that 
girl.  Come,  tell  us,"  he  said,  impe 
riously. 

The  proprietor  was  profusely  cour 
teous,  but  hesitated  to  speak  of  the 
one  who  had  danced  and  sung.  Fi- 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


nally  he  unbent  grudgingly.  lie  told 
the  theatrical  man  and  his  companion 
that  he  knew  next  to  nothing  about 
her.  She  had  come  to  him  a  stran 
ger,  and  had  offered  her  services.  She 
refused  to  enter  into  the  usual  contract 
demanded  of  most  geishas,  and  in 
view  of  her  talents  he  could  not  afford 
to  lose  her.  She  was  attracting  large 
crowds  to  his  gardens  by  her  strange 
dances.  Still  he  disliked  and  mis 
trusted  her.  She  came  only  when  it 
suited  her  whim,  and  on  f&es  and  oc 
casions  of  this  kind  he  had  no  means 
of  knowing  where  she  was.  It  was 
only  by  accident  she  had  happened 
in  this  evening.  Once  he  had  attempt 
ed  to  follow  her,  but  she  had  discov 
ered  him,  and  made  him  promise  never 
to  do  such  a  thing  again,  threatening 
to  stay  away  altogether  if  he  did  so. 
He  spoke  disparagingly  of  her : 

"  Beautiful,  excellencies !  Phow !  You 
cannot  see    properly  in    the    deceitful 
light    of     this     honorable     moon.     A 
14 


THE    STORM    DANCE 

cheap  girl  of  Tokyo,  with  the  blue- 
glass  eyes  of  the  barbarian,  the  yellow 
skin  of  the  lower  Japanese,  the  hair 
of  mixed  color,  black  and  red,  the  form 
of  a  Japanese  courtesan,  and  the  heart 
and  nature  of  those  honorably  unre 
liable  creatures,  alien  at  this  coun 
try,  alien  at  your  honorable  country, 
augustly  despicable — a  half-caste!" 


11 


IN    WHICH    WOMAN    PROPOSES    AND 

MAN  DISPOSES 
^       . 

JACK  BlGELOW  was  beset  by  the 
nakodas  (professional  match -makers). 
He  was  known  to  be  one  of  the  richest 
foreigners  in  the  city,  and  the  nakodas 
gave  him  no  rest.  Though  he  found 
them  interesting,  with  the  little  com 
edies  and  tragedies  to  relate  of  the 
matches  they  had  made  and  unmade, 
he  had  remained  impregnable  to  their 
arts.  He  naturally  shrank  from  such 
a  union,  and  in  this  position  he  was 
strengthened  by  a  promise  he  had 
made  before  leaving  America  to  a  col 
lege  chum,  his  most  intimate  friend, 
a  young  English- Japanese  student, 
named  Taro  Burton,  that  during  his 
16 


WOMAN    PROPOSES,  MAN    DISPOSES 

stay  in  Japan  he  would  not  append 
his  name  to  the  long  list  of  foreigners 
who  for  a  short,  happy,  and  convenient 
season  cheerfully  take  unto  themselves 
Japanese  wives,  and  with  the  same 
cheerfulness  desert  them. 

Taro  Burton  was  almost  a  mono 
maniac  on  this  subject,  and  denounced 
both  the  foreigners  who  took  to  them 
selves  and  deserted  Japanese  wives, 
and  the  native  Japanese,  who  made 
such  a  practice  possible.  He  him 
self  was  a  half-caste,  being  the  prod 
uct  of  a  marriage  between  an  Eng 
lishman  and  a  Japanese  woman. 
In  this  case,  however,  the  husband 
had  proved  faithful  to  his  wife  and 
children  up  to  death;  but  then  he  had 
married  a  daughter  of  the  nobility, 
a  descendant  of  the  proud  Jokichi 
family,  and  the  ceremony  had  been 
performed  by  an  English  missionary. 
Despite  the  happiness  of  this  marriage, 
Taro  held  that  the  Eurasian  was  born 
to  a  sorrowful  lot,  and  was  bitterly 
B  17 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

opposed  to  the  union  of  the  women 
of  his  country  with  men  of  other  lands, 
particularly  as  he  was  Westernized 
enough  to  appreciate  how  lightly  such 
marriages  were  held  by  the  foreigners. 
It  was  true,  of  course,  that  after  the 
desertion  the  wife  was  divorced,  ac 
cording  to  the  law,  but  that,  in  Taro's 
mind,  only  made  the  matter  more  de 
testable. 

For  five  years,  up  to  their  gradua 
tion  four  months  before  this,  the  young 
American  and  the  young  half- Japanese 
had  been  associated  as  closely  together 
as  it  is  possible  for  two  young  men  to 
be,  and  a  strong  and  deep  affection 
existed  between  them. 

It  had  been  originally  decided  that 
the  friends  would  make  this  trip  to 
gether,  which  in  Taro  Burton's  case 
was  to  be  his  return  to  the  home  he 
had  left,  and,  with  Jack  Bigelow,  was 
to  be  the  beginning  of  a  year's  travel 
preliminary  to  entering  the  business 
of  his  father,  who  was  a  rich  ship- 


builder.  But  for  some  reason,  which 
he  never  clearly  set  forth  to  his  friend, 
Taro  had  backed  out  at  almost  the 
last  minute;  yet  he  had  urged  Jack  to 
undertake  the  trip  alone,  and,  under 
promise  to  follow  shortly,  finally  had 
prevailed.  So  Jack  Bigelow  had  made 
the  long  voyage  to  Japan,  and  had 
taken  a  pretty  house  of  his  own  a  short 
distance  from  Tokyo. 

It  was  unfortunate  that  Taro  could 
not  have  accompanied  his  friend,  for, 
while  the  latter  was  not  a  weak  charac 
ter,  he  was  easy-going,  good-natured, 
and  easily  manipulated  through  his 
feelings. 

The  young  Japanese,  had  he  done 
nothing  else,  at  least  would  have  kept 
the  nakodas  and  their  offerings  of 
matrimonial  happiness  on  the  other 
side  of  the  American's  doors.  As  it 
was,  one  of  them  in  particular  was  so 
picturesque  in  appearance,  quaint  in 
speech,  and  persistent  in  his  calls,  that 
the  young  man  had  encouraged  his 
19 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

visits,  until  a  certain  jocular  intimacy 
put  their  relations  with  each  other  on 
a  pleasant  and  familiar  footing. 

It  was  this  nakoda  (Ido  was  his  name, 
so  he  told  Jack)  who  brought  an  ap 
plicant  for  a  husband  to  his  house,  one 
day,  and  besought  him  at  least  to  hold 
a  look-at  meeting  with  her! 

"She  is  beautiful  like  unto  the  sun- 
goddess,"  he  declared,  with  the  ex 
travagance  of  his  class. 

"The  last  was  like  the  moon,"  said 
the  young  man,  laughing.  "Have 
you  any  stars  to  trot  out?" 

"Stars!"  echoed  the  other,  for  a 
moment  puzzled,  and  then,  beaming 
with  delighted  enlightenment,  "Ah, 
yes — her  eyes,  her  feet,  hair,  hands, 
twinkling  like  unto  them  same  stars! 
She  prays  for  just  a  look-at  meeting 
with  your  excellency." 

"Well,  for  the  fun  of  the  thing, 
then,"  said  the  other,  laughing.  "  I'm 
sure  I  don't  mind  having  a  look-at 
meeting  with  a  pretty  girl.  Show 


WOMAN    PROPOSES,   MAN    DISPOSES 

her  into  the  zashishi  (guest  -  room) 
and  I'll  be  along  in  a  moment.  But, 
look  here,"  he  continued,  "you'd  bet 
ter  understand  that  I'm  only  going 
through  this  ceremony  for  the  fun  of 
the  thing,  mind  you.  I  don't  intend 
to  marry  any  one — at  all  events,  not  a 
girl  of  that  class." 

"Nod  for  a  leetle  while  whicheven?" 
persuaded  the  nakoda. 

"Nod  for  a  leetle  while  whicheven," 
echoed  the  young  man,  but  the  agent 
had  disappeared. 

When  Jack,  curious  to  know  what 
she  was  like,  she  who  was  seeking 
him  for  a  husband,  entered  the  zashishi, 
he  found  the  blinds  high  up  and  the 
sunshine  pouring  into  the  room.  His 
eyes  fell  upon  her  at  once,  for  the 
shoji  at  the  back  of  the  room  was  parted, 
and  she  stood  in  the  opening,  her  head 
drooping  bewitchingly.  He  could  not 
see  her  face.  She  was  quite  small, 
though  not  so  small  as  the  average 
Japanese  woman,  and  the  two  little 


A    JAPANEvSE    NIGHTINGALE 

hands,  clasped  before  her,  were  the 
whitest,  most  irresistible  and  perfect 
hands  he  had  ever  seen.  He  had  heard 
of  the  beauty  of  the  hands  of  the 
Japanese  women,  and  was  not  sur 
prised  to  find  even  a  girl  of  this  class 
— she  was  a  geisha,  of  course,  he  told 
himself — with  such  exquisite,  delicate 
hands.  He  knew  she  was  holding  them 
so  that  they  could  be  seen  to  advantage, 
and  her  little  affected  pose  amused  and 
pleased  him. 

After  he  had  looked  at  her  a  moment, 
she  subsided  to  the  mats  and  made 
her  prostration.  She  was  dressed  very 
gayly  in  a  red  crae"pe  kimono,  tied  about 
with  a  purple  obi.  Her  hair  was  dressed 
after  the  fashion  of  the  geisha,  with 
a  flower  ornament  at  top  and  long, 
pointed  daggers  at  either  side;  but  as 
she  bowed  her  head  to  the  mats,  some 
pin  in  her  hair  escaped  and  slipped, 
and  then  a  tawny,  rebellious  mass 
of  hair,  which  was  never  meant  to  be 
worn  smoothly,  had  fallen  all  about 


22 


WOMAN     PROPOSES,   MAN    DISPOSES 

her,  tumbled  into  her  eyes  and  over 
her  ears,  and  literally  covered  her  little 
crouching  form.  She  shivered  in  shame 
at  the  mishap,  and  then  knelt  very  still 
at  his  feet. 

Bigelow  was  speechless.  Never  be 
fore  in  his  life  had  he  seen  such  hair. 
It  was  black,  though  not  densely  so, 
for  all  over  it,  even  where  it  had  been 
darkened  with  oil,  there  was  a  rich 
red  tinge,  and  it  was  luxuriously  thick 
and  long  and  wavy. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  said,  after  the 
little  figure  had  remained  absolutely 
motionless  for  a  full  minute;  "she'll 
hurt  or  cramp  herself  in  that  position." 

The  girl  did  not  rise  at  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  but  crept  nearer  to  him, 
her  hair  still  enshrouding  her.  It 
made  him  feel  creepy,  and  annoyed 
and  pleased  and  amused  him  alto 
gether. 

"Don't  do  that,"  he  said.  "Please 
stand  up.  Do!" 

The  nakoda   told  him  to  lift  her  to 


A     JAPANESE    NIGH' 


her  feet,  and  the  young  man  did  so, 
entangling  his  hands  in  her  hair. 
When  she  stood  up,  he  saw  her  face, 
which  was  oval  and  rosy,  the  lips  very 
red.  She  still  drooped  her  eyes,  so  that 
her  face  was  incomplete. 

"  What's  your  name?"  he  asked  her, 
gently.  "And  what  do  you  want 
with  me?" 

Now  she  raised  her  head  and  he 
saw  her  eyes.  They  startled  him. 
They  were  large,  though  narrow,  and 
intensely,  vividly  blue.  Before,  with 
her  hair  neatly  smoothed  and  dressed, 
he  had  noticed  nothing  extraordina 
ry  about  her;  now,  with  that  rich 
red-black  hair  enshrouding  her,  and 
the  long,  blue  eyes  looking  at  him 
mistily,  she  was  an  eerie  little  creature 
that  made  him  marvel.  A  Japanese 
girl  with  such  hair  and  eyes!  And 
yet  the  more  he  looked  at  her  the  more 
he  saw  that  her  clothes  became  her; 
that  she  was  Japanese  despite  the  hair 

id  eyes.     He  did  not  try  to  explain 


iM 


WOMAN    PROPOSES,   MAN    DISPOSES 

the  anomaly  to  himself,  but  he  could 
not  doubt  her  nationality.  There  was 
no  other  country  she  could  belong  to. 

"You  are  Japanese?"  he  finally 
asked,  to  make  sure. 

She  nodded. 

"  I  thought  so,  and  yet—" 

She  smiled,  and  her  eyes  closed  a 
trifle  as  she  did  so.  She  was  all  Jap 
anese  in  a  moment,  and  prettier  than 
ever. 

"You  see — your  eyes  and  hair — "  he 
began  again.  She  nodded  and  dimpled, 
and  he  knew  she  understood. 

"What  is  it  you  want  with  me?" 
he  asked,  desiring  rather  to  hear  her 
speak  than  to  learn  her  object,  for 
this  he  knew. 

She  was  solemn  now.  She  flushed, 
and  her  eyes  went  down.  To  explain 
to  him  why  she  had  come  to  him  in 
this  wise  was  a  painful  task.  He 
could  guess  that,  but  she  forced  the 
words  past  her  lips. 

"To  be  your  wife,  my  lord,"  she 
25 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


said  in  English,  and  the  queer  quality 
of  her  voice  thrilled  him  strangely. 

This  was  the  answer  he  knew  was 
coming;  nevertheless  it  stirred  him  in 
a  way  he  had  not  expected.  To  have 
this  wonderfully  pretty  girl  before  him, 
beseeching  him  to  marry  her — he  who 
had  as  yet  never  dreamed  of  marriage 
for  himself — was  disturbing  to  his  bal 
ance  of  mind.  Nay,  more — it  was  re 
volting.  He  shrank  back  involuntarily, 
wondering  why  she  had  come  to  him, 
and  this  wonder  he  put  into  words. 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  marry 
me?"  he  asked. 

The  expression  of  her  face  was  enig 
matical  now.  She  had  ceased  to  blush 
and  smile,  and  had  become  quite  white. 
Suddenly  she  commenced  to  laugh — 
thrilling,  elfish  laughter,  that  rang  out 
through  the  room,  startling  the  echoes 
of  the  house. 

"Why?"   he  repeated,  fascinated. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.    "  I  mus' 
make  money,"  she  said. 
26 


WOMAN     PROPOSES,  MAN    DISPOSES 

Of  course  this  was  her  reason;  he 
knew  that  before  she  spoke;  but  hear 
ing  her  say  so  gave  him  pain.  She 
was  such  a  dainty  little  body. 

"Oh,  you  need  not  sell  yourself  for 
that/'  he  said,  earnestly.  "Why,  I'll 
give  you  some — all  you  want.  You're 
awfully  young,  aren't  you?  Just  a 
little  girl.  7  can't  marry  you.  It 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  you." 

Again  she  shrugged  her  shoulders, 
and  spoke  in  Japanese  to  the  nakoda. 

"She  says  some  one  else  will,  then," 
he  interpreted. 

"All  right,"  said  the  young  man, 
almost  bitterly. 

She  pretended  to  go  towards  the 
oor,  and  then  came  back  towards 
Bigelow. 

J"  I  seen  you  before/'  she  announced, 
ingenuously. 

"Where?"      He  was  curiously  inter- 
He   fancied   that  her  face  was 
familiar. 

Ad  tea-house." 
27 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGAL 

"What  tea-house?" 

"  On  liddle  bit  island.  You  'member? 
I  dance  like  this-a-way."  She  per 
formed  a  few  steps. 

"What!  you  that  girl?"  He  knew 
her  in  an  instant  now.  "  How  could 
you  remember  me?" 

"You  following  me  after  dance  with 
'nudder  American  gent,  and  before  thad 
some  one  point  ad  you — ole  wooman 
thad  always  accompanying  me." 

"How  did  she  know  me?" 

"She  din  know  you  to  speag  ad, 
bud — she  saying  you  mos'  reech  bar 
barian  ad  all  Japan." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  he  said,  coldly. 

"She  tell  me  I  bedder  git  marry 
with  you." 

"Indeed!     Why?" 

She  hung  her  head  a  moment.  "  Be 
cause  she  know  I  luffing  with  you," 
she  said. 

"  You  loving  with  me!"  He  laughed 
outright.  Her  ingenuousness  was  en 
trancing. 


"Yes,"  she  said,  and  he,  with  mas 
culine  conceit,  half  believed  her. 

"But  wouldn't  you  rather  stay  at 
the  tea-house  than  get  married?"  he 
asked. 

"Not  miff  money  that  businesses," 
she  returned. 

"Do  you  do  everything  for  money?" 

"How  I  goin'  to  live?" 

This  question,  answering  a  ques 
tion,  brought  her  back  to  the  purpose 
of  her  visit.  She  held  her  little  hands 
out  to  him. 

"Ah,  excellency,  pray  marry  with 
me,"  she  begged. 

He  took  her  hands  quickly  in  his 
own.  They  were  soft  and  so  small. 
He  could  enclose  them  with  one  of  his. 
They  were  delightful.  He  knew  they 
were  daintily  perfumed,  like  every 
thing  else  about  her.  He  did  not  let 
them  go. 

"  You  ought  not  to  marry,  you  know," 
he  said  to  her,  almost  boj'ishly.  "  How 
old  are  you,  anyhow?" 

* 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

She  ignored  his  question. 

"  I  will  be  true,  good  wife  to  you  for 
ever,"  she  said,  and  then  swiftly  cor 
rected  herself,  as  though  frightened 
by  her  own  words.  "No,  no,  I  make 
ridigulous  mistage — not  forever  —  jus' 
for  liddle  bit  while  —  as  you  desire, 
augustness!" 

"But  I  don't  desire,"  he  laughed 
nervously.  "  I  don't  want  to  get  mar 
ried.  I  won't  be  over  a  few  months 
at  most  in  Japan." 

"Oh,  jus'  for  liddle  bit  while  marry 
with  me,"  she  breathed,  entreatingly — 
"Pi-ease!" 

It  hurt  him  strangely  to  have  her 
plead  so.  She  looked  delicate  and  re 
fined  and  gentle.  He  put  her  hands 
quickly  from  him.  She  held  them 
out  and  put  them  back  again  into  his. 
Her  eyes  clouded,  and  he  thought  she 
was  going  to  cry. 

He  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  keep 
from  weeping,  if  he  could,  this 

le  creature,  who  seemed  made  for 
30 


WOMAN     PROPOSES,  MAN    DISPOSES 

anything  but  tears.  He  spoke  from 
this  impulse,  without  giving  so  much 
as  a  second's  thought  to  the  serious 
ness  of  his  words. 

"Don't  cry.  I'll  marry  you,  of 
course,  if  you  want  me  to." 

He  felt  the  hands  in  his  own  tremble, 

"Thangs,  excellency/'  she  said,  in 
a  voice  that  was  barely  above  a  whis 
per,  but  it  was  a  voice  which  had  in 
it  no  note  of  joy. 

There  was  pleasure,  however,  in 
the  eyes  of  the  nakoda.  He  had  done 
a  good  piece  of  business,  a  most  ex 
cellent  piece  of  business,  for  the  Amer 
ican  gentleman  was  reputed  to  be  able 
to  buy  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  rice- 
fields  if  he  so  cared  to  do.  The  nakoda 
came  forward  with  a  benignant  smile 
to  arrange  the  terms. 

"She  will  cost  only  three  hundred 
yen  per  down  and  fifteen  yen  each  end 
per  week.  Soach  a  cheap  price  for  a 
wife!" 

It   was    the 


grinning 
31 


face 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


matrimonial  middleman  that  brought 
Bigelow  back  to  his  senses.  He  had 
said  he  would  marry  this  little  creature, 
whose  limp  hands  he  was  holding. 
He  dropj^ed  them  as  though  they  were 
the  hands  of  one  dead,  and  drew  back. 
"I  won't  do  it!"  he  almost  shouted. 
"  Never ! ' '  Then  he  thought  what  must 
be  the  feelings  of  the  little  girl  whose 


Japanese  girl.  1  don  t  want  to  marry 
any  girl.  I  wouldn't  be  doing  right, 
and  it  wouldn't  be  fair  to  you."  He 
paused,  and  then  added,  lamely,  "I 
think  I'd  like  you  awfully,  though,  if  I 
only  knew  you." 

"  But — "  spoke  up  the  nakoda,  anx 
iously,  who  found  his  dream  of  a  large 
fee  fading  into  thin  air. 

Jack  turned  upon  him  quickly  and 
gave  him  a  sharp  look,  whereat  he 
retired  hurriedly. 

A  look  of  relief  had  come  over  the 


\VOMAX     PROPOSES,   MAN    DISPOSES 

girl's  face  when  Jack  had  cried  out 
that  he  would  not  marry  her,  and  at 
this  he  wondered  much.  This  relief 
in  her  face,  however,  was  succeeded 
almost  instantly  by  disappointment. 
But  she  spoke  no  further  word.  She 
gave  him  a  single  hurried  glance  from 
beneath  fluttering  eyelashes,  courtesied 
until  her  head  was  almost  on  a  level 
with  his  knees,  and  left  him. 


faff* 


. 


Ill 


AN  APPOINTMENT 

JACK  BlGELOW  regarded  the  at 
tempt  of  the  nakoda  and  little  Miss 

(he  had  not  even  thought  to  ask 

^**  her  name)  as  an  incident  closed  by  the 
retirement  of  the  one  aspiring  to  wife- 
hood  from  his  sight.  But  in  passing 
from  his  house  she  had  not  passed 
from  his  mind.  This  she  occupied  in 
spite  of  him,  though  it  must  be  said 
that  Jack  made  no  effort  to  eject  her. 

He  had  been  approached  by  many 
nakodas,  who  had  the  disposal  of 
some  most  excellent  wives,  so  they 
had  told  him,  but  never  before  had  he 
consented  to  see  one  of  their  offerings  ; 
so  the  sensation  of  being  asked  in  mar 
riage  by  a  girl  whom  he  had  only  seen 
34 


AN    APPOINTMENT 

once  before,  and  that  under  circum 
stances  which  prevented  his  seeing 
her  clearly,  was  altogether  new.  That 
he,  John  Hampden  Bigelow,  A.B. — 
he  was  very  proud  of  that  A.B.,  it  had 
not  cost  him  any  particular  labor 
— should  be  so  sought  out  was  not  at 
all  displeasing  to  his  vanity,  a  quality 
that  he  prided  himself  on  not  possess 
ing;  this,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  he  knew  he  had  been  approached 
because  he  had  money. 

He  chuckled  at  the  event  several 
times  during  the  day.  He  would  keep 
this  incident  in  mind,  with  all  its  de 
tail,  and  make  use  of  it  now  and  then 
after  he  had  returned  home,  when  he 
was  called  upon  to  talk  of  his  expe 
riences  in  other  lands.  Of  course,  he 
would  exaggerate  a  bit  here  and  tone 
down  a  bit  there,  and  would  make  the 
girl  much  prettier.  No,  the  girl  was 
pretty  enough.  This  part  of  the  in 
cident  could  not  be  improved  upon. 

Jack  mused  about  the  morning's 
35 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

episode  during  the  entire  day,  and 
twice  exploded  into  such  laughter  at 
the  idea  of  his  being  asked  for  a  hus 
band  that  his  little  man  hurried  in 
to  see  if  the  gay-eyed  barbarian  was 
taking  leave  of  his  senses.  In  the 
evening  he  grew  restless,  and,  having 
nothing  else  to  do — so  he  told  him 
self — he  went  out  to  the  tea-garden 
on  the  little  island  which  he  had  visited 
a  few  nights  before.  For  an  hour  he 
waited  for  something — for  something 
that  did  not  appear.  Finally,  when 
the  proprietor  chanced  to  pass  him, 
he  asked  in  the  manner  of  one  casu 
ally  interested : 

"The  girl  who  danced  and  sang 
the  other  night — is  she  here?" 

She  wras  not,  for  which  the  proprietor 
humbly  asked  pardon.  She  had  not 
visited  his  poor  place  since  the  night 
the  American  had  seen  her. 

For  some  reason  Jack  suddenly  lost 
interest  in  the  house  and  gardens,  and 
returned  to  his  home.  But  the  next 


AN    APPOINTMENT 

night — again  because  he  had  nothing 
else  to  do  —  found  him  once  more  a 
guest  at  the  tea  -  garden.  This  time 
he  did  not  leave  at  the  end  of  an  hour ; 
possibly  because  a  weird  dance  was 
performed  and  a  weird  song  sung  by  a 
girl  with  vivid  blue  eyes.  He  could 
not  see  their  color  from  where  he  sat, 
but  he  knew  they  were  blue. 

After  that  he  fell  into  the  habit  of 
visiting  the  gardens  every  night — 
these  were  dull  times  in  Tokyo — never 
anything  else  to  do.  Most  of  the  even 
ings  so  spent  were  intensely  weari 
some,  but  some  few  of  them  were  not. 
It  may  only  have  been  a  series  of  coin 
cidences,  but  it  so  happened  that  on  the 
enjoyable  evenings  there  was  a  weird 
dance  and  a  weird  song,  and  on  the 
others  there  were  not  the  graceful 
swayings  of  a  little  body,  nor  the  won 
derful  music  of  a  wonderful  voice. 

One  evening,  immediately  after  the 
song  had  been  ended,  he  found  him 
self  striding  down  the  same  road  he 
37 


Tr 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

had  taken  with  the  excited  theatrical 
manager,  and  this  without  consciously 
having  decided  upon  such  a  course. 
But  he  came  down  to  the  beach  with 
out  seeing  man  or  woman,  and,  though 
he  would  not  acknowledge  to  himself 
that  he  was  seeking  any  one,  he  carried 
away  with  him  a  keen  sense  of  dis 
appointment. 

For  two  weeks  the  dulness  of  Tokyo 
remained  unabated,  so  that  the  even 
ings  offered  nothing  else  to  do  save 
to  go  to  the  tea-gardens.  At  the  end 
of  that  time,  Jack,  becoming  honest 
with  himself,  admitted  that  there  was 
nothing  else,  because  there  was  noth 
ing  else  he  wanted  to  do,  and  while 
in  this  frank  mood  he  let  it  become 
known  to  himself  that  there  was  noth 
ing  else  in  all  the  land  of  the  rising 
sun  that  held  so  much  of  interest  to 
him  as  did  the  girl  who  had  offered 
herself  to  him  for  wife — nothing,  indeed, 
in  all  the  other  lands  of  the  earth. 
Why  this  was,  he  did  not  know,  not 
38 


AN    APPOINTMENT 


being  one  given  to  searching  his  own 
soul  or  the  souls  of  others. 

While  he  reclined  at  his  ease  one 
afternoon  in  the  little  room  in  which 
he  lounged  and  smoked,  he  began  to 
place  her,  in  his  imagination,  here  and 
there  in  the  house,  to  try  the  effect. 

He  set  her  in  one  of  his  largest  chairs, 
notwithstanding  she  would  have  been 
much  more  comfortable  on  the  floor, 
in  this  same  room,  and  she  added  won 
derfully  to  the  appearance  of  things. 
He  stood  her  pensively  by  the  toko- 
nona ;  he  nodded  his  head — very  good ! 
He  placed  her  out  beneath  a  cherry- 
tree  in  his  garden;  again  he  nodded 
approvingly.  And  a  breakfast  with 
her  sitting  opposite  him!  That  would 
be  like  unto  the  breakfasts  eaten  by 
the  angels  in  heaven — if  angels  par 
take  of  other  than  spiritual  nourish 
ment.  Yes,  she  would  be  wonder 
fully  effective  in  his  little  house,  would 
harmonize  with  it  greatly. 

But  what  an  odd  figure  she  would 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

make  in  an  American  dress!  He 
thought  of  her  in  a  golfing  costume, 
and  smiled  at  his  fancy.  Neverthe 
less,  even  in  the  gowns  worn  by  the 
women  of  his  own  country,  she  would 
be  quaint  and  charming,  he  felt  sure. 
She  would  be  awkward,  of  course,  but 
would  be  graceful  even  in  her  awk 
wardness.  And  she  would  transgress 
every  polite  convention,  and  would  make 
herself  all  the  more  delightful  in  so 
doing.  He  compared  her  to  the  wives 
of  some  of  the  men  he  knew,  to  many 
of  the  girls  he  had  met  since  girls  had 
begun  to  have  interest  for  him,  and 
his  admiration  for  her  grew  apace.  He 
would  be  proud  of  her,  he  knew,  for  she 
was  pretty  and  would  attract  atten 
tion  ;  men  like  their  wives  to  draw  eyes 
towards  them.  She  was  unlike  the  wife 
of  any  of  his  countrymen  he  was  likely 
to  meet,  and  this  also  was  much. 

What  would  his  parents  think? 
They'd  be  angry  at  first,  of  course,  but 
they'd  give  in;  they  loved  him,  and 


v*  i  ) 


AN    APPOINTMENT 

couldn't  resist  her;  no  one  could  re 
sist  her.  Anyhow,  this  prospective 
trouble  was  so  far  ahead  that  there  was 
no  use  in  wasting  thought  upon  it  now. 
Why  the  deuce  hadn't  he  learned 
her  name?  It  was  very  monotonous 
this  being  compelled  to  think  of  her  only 
as  "she "and  "her." 

But  why  had  she  come  to  him  asking 
him  to  marry  her?  He  shook  his  head 
at  that;  he  didn't  quite  like  it.  But 
— oh,well,  you  know,  these  Japs  have  no 
end  of  queer  customs.  This  incident 
just  illustrated  one  of  them.  She  was 
clearly  a  superior  kind  of  a  girl.  Not 
an  ordinary  geisha  as  he  had  thought 
when  his  eyes  first  fell  on  her.  He 
had  seen  enough  of  the  geishas  at  the 
tea-houses  to  know  that  she  was  of  a 
different  kind;  to  his  Occidental  eyes 
these  last  were  most  pleasing  creatures, 
but- 
Just  then  his  man  straggled  through 
the  room  and  brought  an  end  to  his 
musing.  Marry  her  ?  He  sat  up 
41 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

straight.  What  had  he  been  think 
ing  about?  The  idea  was  absurd. 
It  was  absurd  for  him  to  think  about 
marrying  any  one.  He  got  to  his  feet, 
called  back  his  man,  and  ordered  a 
jinrikisha  to  be  brought  to  him.  He 
rode  off  to  Tokyo  to  forget  all  about  it. 

But  it  would  not  be  forgotten.  After 
he  had  left  the  jinrikisha  he  caught 
sight  of  her  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  turning  a  corner.  He  hurried 
after  her,  but  when  he  reached  the 
corner  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
He  looked  into  all  the  shops  on  either 
side  of  the  street  for  a  distance  of  a 
hundred  yards,  but  saw  no  one  who 
bore  the  least  resemblance  to  her. 
Then  he  tramped  about  the  immediate 
vicinity,  his  sense  of  loss  deepening 
with  each  minute,  until  he  noticed  that 
the  shop-keepers  were  eying  him  with 
suspicion.  He  gave  up  the  search  and 
started  back  to  his  jinrikisha. 

As  he  was  swinging  along  discon 
solately,  his  eyes  lighted  upon  another 
42 


person  whom  he  knew — Ido,  the  nakoda 
— and  him  Jack  did  not  let  escape.  He 
pounced  down  upon  him,  and  clapped  a 
hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Hallo  there!"  he  called  out. 

Ido  started  back  as  if  he  had  been 
set  upon  by  an  enemy.  He  was  un 
used  to  such  emphatic  greetings.  But 
when  he  saw  who  his  assailant  was 
he  slipped  a  smile  upon  his  face,  smirk 
ed  and  bowed,  and  hoped  that  the  au 
gust  American's  days  were  rilled  with 

j°y- 

"  They'll  do,"  Jack  answered.  "  And 
how  are  things  with  you?  Business 
good?  Making  many  matches?" 

Ido  had  introduced  four  persons  to 
incomparable  happiness — which  was  to 
say,  he  had  brought  about  two  mar 
riages.  Had  his  lordship  come  into 
like  happiness? 

No,  his  lordship  had  not. 

"You  making  gradest  mistage  you' 
whole  lifetime,"  Ido  assured  him. 
"  You  nod  yit  seen  Japanese  woman 
43 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

that  please  you  for  wife?  Xo?  1 
know  nodder  girl  you'  excellency  nod 
seen  yit.  Mos'  beautiful  in  Japan. 
You  like  see  her?" 

"No,  I've  seen  enough.  By- the  - 
way,  Ido,  what's  become  of  the  girl 
you  brought  around  to  my  place? 
Married  yet?"  Jack  put  on  a  look  of 
indifferent  interest. 

"No,  excellency." 

For  one  disinterested,  Jack  found 
much  relief  in  this  answer. 

"But  I  thing  she  going  to  be,"  Ido 
went  on,  calmly.  "Two,  three — no, 
two  odder  gents — what  you  say? — con 
sider — yes,  consider  her." 

These  words  drove  relief  from  the 
disinterested  Jack's  heart,  and  in 
stantly  set  up  in  its  place  a  raging 
jealousy.  But  he  compelled  himself  to 
remark,  quite  easily,  "You  don't  say!" 

Ido  confirmed  his  statement  with  a 
nod  that  was  almost  a  bow. 

"A  very  pretty  girl,"  Jack  com 
mented,  loftily. 

44 


AN    APPOINTMENT 

Ido's  reply  was  confined  to  a  mere 
"Yes."  There  was  no  use  going  into 
ecstasies  when  no  bargain  was  in  sight. 

"I  think  I'll  go  around  to  see  her, 
and  congratulate  her,"  Jack  went  on. 
"Where  does  she  live?" 

"I  regretfully  cannot  tell." 

"  Ah,  well,  let  it  go  then.  But,  say, 
I  really  would  like  to  see  her  again 
before  she's  married.  Rather  took  a 
fancy  to  her,  you  know.  Couldn't  you 
bring  her  to  call  on  me  to-morrow  morn- 
mg?" 

"  I  going  to  be  very  busy  to-morrow." 
Seeing  no  chance  of  earning  a  mar 
riage-fee,  he  saw  no  reason  for  taking 
the  trip. 

"I'll"  pay  you  for  your  trouble — 
needn't  worry  about  that." 

Perhaps  Ido  could  arrange  to  come; 
yes,  now  that  he  thought  again,  he 
knew  he  could  come. 

So  it  was   settled   that  he  and   the 
girl  should  visit  Jack  at  ten  o'cloc 
the  next  day. 


IV 


IN  WHICH  MAN  PROPOSES 

THE  announcement  of  his  man  that 
Ido  and  his  charge  had  arrived  con 
tained  no  news  for  Jack,  for  he  had 
been  watching  the  road  from  Tokyo 
since  nine  o'clock,  and  had  seen  them 
while  they  were  yet  afar  off.  Never 
theless,  he  did  not  enter  the  zashishi 
until  his  man  came  to  him  with  word 
that  guests  from  the  city  were  awaiting 
him,  and  then  he  had  no  definite  idea 
of  what  he  intended  to  do. 

She  was  dressed  exactly  as  she  had 
been  on  her  previous  visit,  and  she 
made  obeisance  almost  to  the  floor, 
in  greeting  him,  as  she  then  had  done. 
He  hastened  her  recovery  from  the 
deep  courtesy  by  taking  her  hands 
~  46 


MAN    PROPOSES 

and    raising  her    to  an    upright    pos 
ture. 

"You  have  come  to  see  me  again? 
I  am  very  glad  to  see  you/'  he  said, 
with  eager  politeness. 

"  Nakoda  say  you  wish  see  me.  Tha's 
why  I  come."  There  was  not  a  trace 
of  her  former  coquetry  in  her  manner. 

"Yes,  I  had  to  send  Ido  after  you. 
I  don't  suppose  you  would  ever  have 
let  me  see  you  again  if  I  had  not." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  im 
perceptibly.  "Me  you  don'  wish  mar 
rying  with.  You  send  me  'way. 
What  I  do?" 

"We  could  be  capital  friends,  even 
if  we  didn't  care  to  marry,  couldn't 
we?" 

"Frieri'?  I  don'  wan'  frien',"  she 
returned,  coldly. 

"But  I'd  like  to  have  you  for  my 
friend,  all  the  same,  though  I'm  afraid 
it's  not  possible.  Ido" — he  hesitated — 
"  Ido  says  you're  going  to  be  married, 
you  know." 

47 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


She  inclined  her  head. 

"You're  not  married  yet,  are  you?" 
he  asked  in  alarm,  forgetting  that  he 
had  put  this  same  question  to  the 
nakoda  the  day  before. 

"Nodyit." 

"Do  you — uin — like  him?" 

"  Which  one,  my  lord?"  She  looked 
up  at  him  innocently. 

"Oh,  both  of  them!"  He  was  be 
ginning  to  get  angry.  He  would  find 
pleasure  in  laying  violent  hands  upon 
the  two,  one  at  a  time. 

"Jus'  liddle  bit,  augustness." 

"Better  than  you  do  me?"  he  de 
manded,  jealously. 

She  shook  her  head  decisively. 
"You  nod  so  ole,  an  nod  so  —  hairy- 
like."  She  rubbed  her  little  hands 
over  her  face,  by  which  he  understood 
that  the  two  wore  beards.  They  were 
doubtless  of  his  own  country. 

He  hardly  knew  what  to  say  next,  and 
the  silence  grew  embarrassing  to  him. 
She  broke  it  by  remarking,  very  quietly : 
48 


MAN    PROPOSES 

"Nakoda  inform  me  you  wan'  make 
liddle  bit  talk  ad  me." 

He  turned  to  the  match-maker,  who 
was  pretending  deep  interest  in  a 
framed  drawing  on  the  wall.  "Say, 
Ido,  just  step  into  the  next  room  a 
minute,  will  you?" 

He  turned  back  to  the  girl,  as  soon 
as  Ido  had  obeyed  him,  with  extrava 
gant  alacrity. 

"You  have  never  even  told  me  your 
name,"  he  said. 

"Yuki." 

"That  means  'Snowflake/  doesn't 
it?  I  like  it.  Well  now,  Yuki,  mayn't 
I  visit  you  at  your  home,  before  you 
are  married?" 

He  was  anxious  to  see  what  her 
people  were  like,  and  how  she  lived. 

"  Mos'  poor  house  in  all  Tokyo — so  lid- 
die  bit  house  augustness  nod  lige  come." 

"  But  I  don't  care  if  it  is.  I  want  to 
come  anyhow.  I  want  to  see  you,  not 
the  house.  Won't  you  tell  me  where 
you  live?" 

D  49 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

She  shook  her  head.  "No,"  she 
said  with  simple  directness,  and  then 
added  as  an  after  -  thought,  "House 
too  small.  You  altogedder  too  big  to 
enter  thad  liddle  bit  insignificant  hovel." 

Her  answer  gave  him  offence.  He 
wondered  why  she  should  dissemble, 
wondered  whether  she  was  laughing  at 
him.  A  glance  at  her,  however,  and  his 
distrust  vanished.  She  seemed  such  a 
simple  little  bod3',  yet  he  knew  he  did 
not  understand  her. 

Her  eyes,  which  she  had  kept  turned 
downward,  slowly  uplifted  and  looked 
questioningly  into  his  own.  Such 
wonderful  eyes!  Such  a  simple,  ex 
quisite  face!  He  was  suddenly  suf 
fused  with  a  great  wave  of  tenderness, 
and  he  bent  low,  and  gently  made 
prisoners  of  her  hands.  However  in 
definite  his  purpose  had  been  up  to 
this  time,  it  was  definite  enough  now. 

"So  you  remember,  Yuki,  what 
you  asked  me  when  you  were  here  be 
fore?" 

50 


MAN    PROPOSES 

"Yes."  She  still  gazed  at  him 
questioningly. 

"Would  you  like  to  —  would  you 
rather  marry  me  than  one  of  those 
other  fellows?"  he  said,  softly. 

"Yes,"  again,  in  the  smallest  voice 
this  time. 

He  hesitated,  and  she  asked,  quickly, 
"  You  wan'  me  do  so?" 

"That's  just  what  I  want,  Yuki, 
dear,"  he  whispered,  drawing  her 
hands  to  his  lips. 

"All  ride."  She  trembled — perhaps 
shivered  is  the  better  word — as  she  said 
this,  but  gave  no  other  sign  of  emotion. 

Before  Jack  could  so  much  as  touch 
his  lips  to  her  forehead,  Ido  entered 
smiling  his  professional  blessing.  It 
was  evident  that  in  the  other  room 
he  had  found  no  drawing  to  distract 
his  attention,  and  a  large  new  peep 
hole  in  the  immaculate  shoji  indicated 
where  he  had  given  all  his  eyes  and 
ears  to  what  was  going  on,  and  he 
could  wait  no  longer  to  press  his  claim. 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Jack,  seeing  an  unpleasant  duty 
before  him,  and  desiring  to  have  done 
with  it  at  once,  told  Yuki  that  he  would 
be  back  in  a  minute,  and  led  the  nakoda 
into  the  room  out  of  which  he  had  just 
come. 

Ido  immediately  began  to  make 
terms.  This  part  was  loathsome  to 
the  young  man. 

"Why,"  he  said,  hotly,  "if  we're  to 
be  married,  she  can  have  all  she  wants 
and  needs." 

That  wouldn't  do  at  all,  the  nakoda 
told  him,  warily.  There  would  have 
to  be  a  marriage  settlement  and  a  stated 
allowance  agreed  upon.  He  would 
have  to  pay  more,  also,  as  she  was  a 
maid  and  not  a  widow. 

When  the  ugly  terms  of  the  agree 
ment  were  completed,  the  nakoda  bowed 
himself  out,  and  Jack  went  back  to 
Yuki.  He  found  her  changed ;  her  sim 
plicity  had  left  her,  and  her  coquet 
ry  had  returned.  She  stood  off  from 
him,  and  he  felt  constrained  and  awk- 
52 


MAX    PROPOSES 


ward.  After  a  time  she  demanded  of 
him,  with  a  shrewd  inflection  in  her 
voice : 

"You  goin'  to  lige  me,  excellency?" 

"No  question  of  that,"  he  answered 
promptly,  smiling. 

"No,"  she  repeated,  "tha's  sure 
thing,"  and  then  she  laughed  at  her 
own  assurance,  and  she  was  so  pretty 
he  wanted  to  kiss  her,  but  she  backed 
from  him  in  mock  alarm. 

"Tha's  nod  ride,"  she  declared,  "till 
we  marry." 

"God  speed  the  day!"  he  said,  with 
devout  joyousness.  Still  approaching 
her,  as  she  backed  from  him,  he  ques 
tioned  her  boyishly: 

"And  you?    Will  you  like  me?" 

She  surveyed  him  critically.  Then 
she  nodded  emphatically.  They  laugh 
ed  together  this  time,  but  when  he  ap 
proached  her  she  grew  fearful.  He  did 
not  want  to  frighten  her. 

"You  god  nod  anudder  wife?"  she 
asked. 

51 


8m 


.\     JAPAMlSi:     NIGHTINGALE 

"Xo!     Good  heavens!" 

"I  god  nod  anudder  hosban',"  she 
informed  him,  complacently. 

"I  should  hope  not." 

"Perhaps,"  she  said,  "you  marry 
ing  with  girl  in  Japan  thad  god  marry 
before.  Me?  I  never." 

"No,  of  course  not."  He  didn't 
quite  understand  what  she  was  driving 
at. 

Then  she  said :  "  You  pay  more 
money  ad  liddle  girl  lige  me  whad  nod 
been  marry  before?" 

He  recoiled  and  frowned  heavily 
at  her. 

"I  settled  that  matter  writh  the 
nakoda,"  he  said,  coldly. 

Seeing  he  was  displeased,  she  tried 
to  conciliate  him.  She  smiled  at  him, 
engagingly,  coaxingly. 

"You  don" lige  me  any  more  which- 
even." 

But  his  face  did  not  clear  up.  She 
had  hurt  him  deeply  by  her  reference 
to  money. 

54 


MAN    PROPOSES 

"Perhaps  you  don'  want  me  even," 
she  suggested,  tentatively.  "I  bedder 
go  'way.  Leave  you  all  lone." 

She  turned  and  was  making  her 
way  slowly  out  of  the  room,  when  he 
sprang  impetuously  after  her. 

"Don't,  Yuki!"  he  cried,  and  caught 
her  eagerly  in  his  arms.  She  yielded 
herself  to  his  embrace,  though  she 
was  trembling  like  a  little  frightened 
child.  For  the  first  time  he  kissed  her. 


After  she  had  left  him,  he  stared  with 
some  wonder  at  the  reflection  of  him 
self  in  a  mirror.  So  he  was  to  be  mar 
ried,  was  he?  Yes,  there  was  no  get 
ting  out  of  it  now.  As  for  that,  he 
didn't  want  to  get  out  of  it — of  this 
he  was  quite  sure.  He  was  very  well 
content — nay,  he  was  enthusiastically 
happy  with  what  the  future  promised. 

But  his  happiness  might  have  been 
felt  in  less  measure  if  his  eyes,  in 
stead  of  staring  at  his  mirrored  like 
ness,  could  have  been  fixed  on  Yuki. 
55 


A     J  A  1  >  A  N  KSI-:     NIGHTINGALE 

She  had  borne  herself  with  a  joyous 
air  to  the  jinrikisha,  but  once  within 
it,  and  practically  secure  from  observa 
tion,  the  life  had  seemingly  gone  out 
of  her.  The  brown  of  her  skin  had 
paled  to  gray,  and  all  the  way  to  Tokyo 
her  eyes  shifted  neither  to  right  nor 
left,  but  stared  straight  ahead  into 
nothingness,  and  once,  when  Ido  looked 
down,  he  found  that  they  were  filled 
with  tears. 


V 


IN    WHICH    THE    EAST    AND   THE 
WEST    ARE    UNITED 

A  FEW  days  later  they  were  married. 
It  was  a  very  quiet  little  tea-drinking 
ceremony,  and,  unlike  the  usual  Japan 
ese  wedding,  there  was  not  the  painful 
crowd  of  relatives  and  friends  attend 
ant.  In  fact,  ho  one  was  present,  be 
sides  themselves,  save  Jack's  man  and 
maid  and  the  nakoda,  while  Yuki  her 
self  sang  the  marriage  song. 

They  started  housekeeping  in  an 
ideal  spot.  Their  house,  a  bit  of  art 
in  itself,  was  built  on  the  crest  of  a 
small  hill.  On  all  sides  sloped  and 
leaned  green  highlands,  rich  in  foliage 
and  warm  in  color.  Beyond  these 
smaller  hillocks  towered  the  jagged 
57 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTIXC,  AI.i: 


background  of  mountain  -  peaks,  with 
the  halo  of  the  skies  bathing  them  in 
an  eternal  glow.  A  lazy,  babbling 
little  stream  dipped  and  threaded  its 
way  between  the  hillocks,  mirroring 
on  its  shining  surface  the  beauty  of 
the  neighboring  hills  and  the  inimi 
table  landscapes  pictured  on  the  canvas 
of  God — the  skies — and  seeming  like  a 
twisted  rainbow  of  ever-changing  and 
brilliant  colors.  But  no  surges  dis 
turbed  its  waters,  even  far  beyond 
where  it  emptied  into  the  mellow  Bay 
of  Tokyo. 

From  their  elevation  on  the  hill  they 
could  see  below  them  the  beautiful 
city  of  Tokyo,  with  its  many-colored 
lights  and  intricate  maze  of  streets. 
And  all  about  them  the  hills,  the  mead 
ows,  the  valleys  and  forests  bore  elo 
quent  testimony  to  the  labor  of  the 
Color  Queen. 

Pink,  white,  and  blushy-red  twigs 
of  cherry  and  plum  blossoms,  idly 
swaving,  flung  out  their  suave  fra~ 
58 


be 


EAST    AND    WEST    UNITED 

grance  on  the  flattered  breeze,  the 
volatile  handmaid  of  young  May,  who 
had  freed  all  the  imprisoned  perfumes, 
unhindered  by  the  cynic  snarl  of  the 
jealous  winter,  and  with  silent,  pur- 
suasive  wooing  had  taught  the  dewy- 
tinctured  air  to  please  all  living  nostrils. 
So  from  the  glowing  and  thrilling 
thoughts  that  tremble  on  the  young 
tree  of  life  is  love  distilled,  and,  un 
mindful  of  the  assembling  of  the  baffled 
powers  of  cold  caution  and  warning 
fear,  the  heart  is  filled  with  fountain 
tumults  it  cannot  dissemble. 

:Jack  Bigelow  was  fascinated  and 
wildered  at  the  turn  events  had  taken, 
e  was  very  good  and  gentle  to  her, 
and  for  several  days  after  the  cere 
mony  she  seemed  quite  happy  and  con 
tented.  Then  she  disappeared,  and  for 
week  he  saw  nothing  of  her. 
He  greatly  missed  her  —  his  little 
bride  of  three  or  four  days.  He  longed 
ardently  -for  her  return,  and  her  ab 
sence  alarmed  him.  Her  little  arts  and 
59 


A    j.M'ANKSi-:    MC.IITI.V; AI.I: 


ivitchcries  had  grown  on  him  even  in 
this  short  period  of  their  acquaintance. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  week  she 
slipped  into  the  house  quietly,  and 
went  about  her  household  duties  as 
though  nothing  unusual  had  occurred. 
She  did  not  offer  to  tell  him  where  she 
had  been,  and  he  felt  strangely  un 
willing  to  force  her  confidence. 

Instead  of  becoming  better  acquainted 
with  her,  each  day  found  him  more  puz 
zled  and  less  capable  of  knowing  or  un 
derstanding  her.  Now  .she  was  cling 
ing,  artless,  confiding,  and  again 
shrewd  and  elfish.  Now  she  was 
laughing  and  singing  and  dancing 
as  giddily  as  a  little  child,  and  again 
he  could  have  sworn  she  had  been 
weeping,  though  she  would  deny  it 
stoutly,  and  pooh-pooh  and  laugh 
away  such  an  idea.«^. 

He  asked  her  one  day  how  she  would 
like  to  be  dressed  in  American  clothes. 
She  mimicked  him.  She  mimicked 
everything  and  every  one,  from  the 


EAST    AND    WEST    UNITED 

warbling  of  the  birds  to  the  little  man 
and  maid  who  waited  on  them. 

"I  loog  lige  this/'  she  said,  and 
humped  a  bustle  under  her  ridiculously 
tight  omeshi,  and  slipped  his  large 
sun  hat  over  her  face.  Then  she 
laughed  out  at  him,  and  flung  her 
arms  tightly  about  his  neck. 

"You  wan'  me  be  American  girl?" 

"You  are  a  witch,  Yuki-san,"  he 
said. 

"I  wan'  new  dress/'  she  returned, 
promptly,  and  held  a  pink  little  palm 
out.  He  frowned.  He  almost  disliked 
her  when  she  spoke  of  money.  He 
filled  her  hands,  however,  with  change 
from  his  pockets,  and  when  she  broke 
away  from  him,  which  she  did  as  soon 
as  she  had  obtained  the  money,  he 
wanted  to  take  it  back.  Her  pretty 
laughter  sifted  out  to  him  through  the 
shoji  at  the  other  side,  and  he  knew 
she  was  mocking  him  again. 

"It  is  her  natural  love  of  dress  and 
finery/'  he  told  himself.  "It  is  the 
61 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

eternal  feminine  in  her,  and  it  is  be 
witching." 

The  next  day,  as  she  sat  opposite 
to  him,  eating  her  infinitesimal  bit 
of  a  breakfast — a  plum,  a  small  fish, 
and  a  tiny  cup  of  tea — all  on  a  little 
black  lacquer  tray,  he  announced  mys 
teriously  that  he  was  going  "on  busi 
ness  "  to  the  city. 

She  desired  to  accompany  him,  as 
became  a  dutiful  wife. 

No,  he  told  her,  that  was  impossible. 
His  mission  was  of  a  secret  nature, 
which  could  not  be  divrulged  until  his 
return. 

Then  she  insisted  that  she  would 
follow  behind  him  after  the  manner  of 
a  slave;  and  when  he  laughed  at  her, 
she  begged  quite  humbly  and  gently 
that  he  would  condescend  to  honor 
ably  permit  her  to  go  with  him,  and 
then  he  was  for  telling  her  his  whole 
pretty  story,  and  the  surprise  he  had 
concocted  to  please  her,  when  she  grew 
:apricious  and  insisted  that  she  would 
62 


EAST    AND    WEST    UNITED 

not  stir  one  little  bit  of  an  inch  from 
the  house,  and  that  he  must  go  all 
alone  to  the  city  and  attend  to  his  great, 
magnificent  business! 

He  went  down  to  Tokyo,  and  in  his 
boyish,  blundering  fashion  he  pur 
chased  silk  and  cr£pe  and  linen  suffi 
cient  for  fifty  gowns  for  her. 

She  thanked  him  extravagantly. 
She  could  not  imagine  what  she  would 
do  with  so  much  finery.  Her  honor 
able  person  was  augustly  insignificant, 
and  could  not  accommodate  so  much 
merchandise. 

"  Now,"  he  thought  with  inward  .satis 
faction,  "that  ghost  of  a  money  ques 
tion  will  be  laid.  She  has  everything 
she  wants  and  shall  have.  I  want  to 
do  for  her,  and  give  her  things  with 
out  being  wheedled  into  it.  It  is  that 
which  irritates  me." 

But  a  few  days  later    she  came  to 

him    breathless    and    flustered.      Lo! 

some  one  had  stolen  all  the  beautiful 

goods    he    had    bought    her.     It    was 

63 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

neither  their  man  nor  maid.  No,  no! 
that  was  altogether  impossible.  They 
were  honest,  simple  folk,  who  feared 
the  gods.  But  they  were  all  quite 
gone — where  she  could  not  say.  Who 
had  taken  them,  she  could  not  guess. 
Perhaps  she,  her  unworthy  self,  and 
he,  his  honorable  augustness,  had 
been  extremely  wicked  in  their  former 
state,  and  the  gods  were  now  punishing 
them  in  their  present  life.  It  would 
be  wicked  and  unavailing  to  attempt 
to  search  for  the  missing  goods.  It 
was  the  will  of  the  gods.  Maybe  the 
gods  had  been  offended  at  such  ruth 
less  extravagance.  Ah,  yes,  that  was 
a  better  solution  of  the  theft.  Of  course 
the  gods  were  angry.  What  gods 
would  not  be?  It  was  sinful  to  buy 
so  many  things  at  once. 

She  affected  great  distress  over  the 
loss,  and  her  husband,  somewhat  be 
wildered  at  her  elaborate  apologies 
for  the  thief  who  had  stolen  them,  tried 
to  comfort  her  by  saying  he  would 
64 


EAST    AND    WEST    UNITED 

buy   her   double    the   quantity   again, 
whereat  she  became  very  solemn. 

"No,  no,"  she  said.  "Redder  give 
me  money  to  buv.  I  will  purchase 
jus'  liddle  bit  each  time — to  please 
the  gods" 


VI 


THE  ADVENTURESS 

THE  man  in  the  hammock  was  not 
asleep,  for  in  spite  of  the  lazy,  loung 
ing  attitude,  and  the  hat  which  hid  the 
gray  eyes  beneath,  he  was  very  much 
awake,  and  keenly  interested  in  a  cer 
tain  small  individual  who  was  sitting 
on  a  mat  a  short  distance  removed  from 
him.  He  had  invited  her  several  times 
to  reduce  that  distance,  but  up  to  the 
present  she  had  paid  no  heed  to  his 
suggestions.  She  was  amusing  her 
self  by  blowing  and  squeezing  between 
her  lower  lip  and  teeth  the  berry  of 
the  winter  cherry,  from  which  she 
had  deftly  extracted  the  pulp  at  the 
stem.  She  continued  this  strange  oc 
cupation  in  obstinate  indifference  to 
66 


THE    ADVENTURESS 

the   persuasive   voice   from    the    ham 
mock. 

"  I  say,  Yuki,  there's  room  for  two  in 
this  hammock.  Had  it  made  on  purpose." 

She  continued  her  cherry  -  blowing 
without  so  much  as  making  a  reply, 
though  one  of  her  blue  eyes  looked 
at  him  sideways,  and  then  solemn^ 
blinked. 

"What's  the  matter,  Yuki?  Got  the 
dumps  again,  eh?" 

No  reply. 

"Look  here,  Mrs.  Bigelow,  I'll  come 
over  and  elope  forcibly  with  you  if 
you  don't  obey  me." 

She  dimpled  scornfully. 

"Ah,  that's  right!  Smile,  Yuki. 
You're  so  pretty,  so  bewitching,  so 
irresistible  when  you  smile." 

Yuki  nodded  her  head  coolly. 

"How  you  lige  me  smiling  forever?" 
she  suggested. 

"That  wouldn't  do,"  he  said,  grin 
ning  at  her  from  beneath  his  tipped 
hat.     "That  would  be  tiresome." 
67 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Tha'swhy  I  don' smiling  to-day." 

"Why?" 

"All  yistidy  I  giggling." 

lie  shouted  with  laughter  at  her. 

"Move  your  mat  here,  Yuki,"  indi 
cating  a  spot  close  to  his  hammock. 
"I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

"My  ears  are — " 

"Too  small  to  hear  from  that  dis 
tance,"  finished  her  husband.  "Come." 

"Thangs,"  with  great  dignity,  "I 
am  quide  comfor'hle.  I  don'  wan'  sit 
so  near  you,  excellency." 

"Why,  pray?" 

'Why?  Hm!  I  un'erstan'.  Tha's 
because  I  jus'  your  liddle  bit  slave." 

"You're  my  wife,  you  little  bit 
fraud." 

"Wife?  Oh,  I  dunno."  She  pre 
tended  to  deliberate. 

"Then  you've  tricked  me  into  a 
false  marriage,  madam,"  declared  her 
husband,  with  great  wrath. 

"Tha's  fault  nakoda." 

"  What  is?" 

68 


THE   ADVENTURESS 

"Thad  you  god  me  for  wife,  and," 
slowly,  "servant." 

"Fault!  Come  here,  servant,  then. 
Servants  must  obey." 

"Nod  so  bad  master,  making  such 
grade  big  noises,"  she  laughed  back 
daringly.  "Besides,  servant  must  sit 
long  way  off  from  thad  same  noisy 
master." 

"And  wife?" 

"Oh,  jus'  liddle  bit  nearer."  She 
edged  perhaps  half  an  inch  closer  to 
him.  "Wife  jus'  liddle  bit  different 
from  servant." 

"Look  here,  Mrs.  Bigelow,  you're 
not  living  up  to  your  end  of  the  con 
tract.  You  swore  to  honor  and  obey — " 

She  laughed  mockingly. 

"Yes,  you  did,  madam!" 

"  I  din  nod.  Tha's  jus'  ole  Kirishitan 
marriage." 

He  sat  up  amazed. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  the  Christian 
marriage  service?" 

"Liddle  bit." 

69 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Come  over  here,  Yuki." 

"You  like  me  sing  ad  you?" 

"Come  over  here." 

"How  you  like  me  danze? — liddle 
bit  summer  danze?" 

"Come  over  here.  What's  a  sum 
mer  dance,  anyhow?" 

She  ran  lightly  indoors,  and  was 
back  so  soon  that  she  seemed  scarcely 
to  have  left  him.  She  had  slipped 
on  a  red  -  and  -  yellow  flimsy  kimono, 
and  had  decked  her  hair  and  bosom 
with  flaming  poppies. 

"  Tha's  summer  sunshine,"  she  said, 
spreading  her  garment  out  on  each 
side  with  a  joyous  little  twirl.  "I  am 
the  Sun-goddess,  and  you? — you  jus' 
the  col',  dark  earth.  I  will  descend 
and  warm  you  with  my  sunshine." 
For  a  moment  she  stood  still,  her  head 
thrown  back,  her  face  shining,  her 
lips  parted  and  smiling,  showing  the 
straight  little  white  teeth  within.  Then 
she  danced  softly,  ripplingly,  back  and 
forth.  The  summer  winds  were  sigh- 
70 


THE    ADVENTURESS 


ing  and  laughing  with  her.  Her  face 
shone  out  above  her  lightly  swerving 
figure,  her  little  hands  and  bare  arms 
moved  with  inimitable  grace. 
-j*You  are  a  genius,"  he  said  to  her, 
when  she  had  subsided,  light  as  a 
feather  blown  to  his  feet. 

"Tha's  sure  thing,"  she  agreed, 
roguishly. 

Her  assurance  in  herself  always 
tickled  him  immensely.  He  threw  his 
hat  at  her  with  such  good  aim  that  it 
settled  upon  her  head.  She  approved 
his  clever  shot,  laughed  at  him,  and 
then,  pulling  it  over  her  eyes,  lay  down 
on  the  mats  and  imitated  his  favorite 
attitude  to  a  nicety.  He  laughed  up 
roariously.  He  was  in  fine  humor. 
They  had  been  married  over  a  month 
now,  and  she  had  not  left  him  save 
that  first  time.  He  was  growing  pretty 
sure  of  her  now. 

She  perceived  his  good -humor,  and 

immediately  bethought  herself  to  take 

advantage.     She  put  the  rim  of  his  hat 

71 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

between  her  teeth,  imitated  a  monkey, 
and  crawled  towards  him,  pretending  to 
beg  for  her  performance.  He  stretched 
his  long  arms  out  and  tried  to  reach 
her,  but  she  was  far  enough  off  to  elude 
him. 

"  You  godder  pay,"  she  said, "  for  thad 
nize  entertainments  I  giving  you." 

He  threw  her  a  sen.  She  made  a 
face.  "That  all?"  she  said,  in  a  dread 
fully  disappointed  voice,  but,  despite 
her  acting,  he  saw  the  greedy  eager 
ness  of  her  eyes.  All  the  good-humor 
vanished. 

"Look  here,  Yuki,"  he  said,  with  a 
disagreeable  glint  in  his  eyes,  "you've 
had  a  trifle  over  fifty  dollars  this  week. 
1  don't  begrudge  you  money,  but  I'll 
be  hanged  if  I'm  going  to  have  you 
dragging  it  out  of  me  on  every  occasion 
and  upon  every  excuse  you  can  make. 
You  have  no  expenses.  I  can't  see 
what  you  want  with  so  much  money, 
anyhow." 

"I  godder  save,"  said  Yuki,  myste- 
72 


THE   ADVENTURESS 

riously,  struck  with  this  brilliant  ex 
cuse  for  her  extravagance. 

"What  for?" 

"  Why,  same's  everybody  else.  Some 
day  I  nod  have  lods  money.  Whad  I 
goin'  do  then?  Tha's  bedder  save,  eh?" 

"  I've  married  you.  I'll  never  let  you 
want  for  anything." 

"Oh,  you  jus'  marry  me  for  liddle 
bit  while." 

"You've  a  fine  opinion  of  me,  Yuki." 

"Yes,  fine  opinion  of  you,"  she  re 
peated  after  him. 

"There's  enough  money  deposited 
in  a  bank  in  Tokyo  to  last  you  as  long 
as  you  live.  If  it's  ever  necessary  for 
me  to  leave  you  for  a  time,  you  will  not 
want  for  anything,  Yuki." 

"But,"  .she  said,  argumentatively, 
"when  you  leaving  me  I  hencefor 
ward  a  widder.  I  nod  marry  with  you 
any  longer.  Therefore  I  kin  nod  take 
your  money."  This  last  with  heroic 
pride. 

"Boo!  Your  qualms  of  conscience 
73 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

about  using  my  money  are,  to  say  the 
least,  rather  extraordinary." 

"When  you  leaving  me — "  she  com 
menced  again. 

"  Why  do  you  persist  in  that?  I 
have  no  idea  of  leaving  you." 

"W'hat!"  She  was  quite  frightened. 
"You  goin'  stay  with  me  forever!" 
There  was  far  more  fear  than  joy  in 
her  voice. 

"Why  not?"  he  demanded,  sharply, 
watching  her  with  keen,  savage  eyes. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  humbly,  "I 
could  nod  hear  of  thad.  It  would  be 
wrong.  Too  grade  sacrifice  for  you 
honorable  self." 

He  was  not  sure  whether  she  was 
laughing  at  him  or  not. 

"You  needn't  be  alarmed,"  he  said, 
gruffly.  "I'm  not  likely  to  stay  here 
forever."  He  turned  his  back  on  her. 

Suddenly  he  felt  her  light  little  hand 

on  his  face.     She  was  standing  close 

by  the  hammock.     He  was  still  very 

angry  and  sulky  with  her.     He  closed 

74 


THE    ADVENTURESS 

his  eyes  and  frowned.  He  knew  just 
how  she  was  looking ;  knew  if  he  glanced 
at  her  he  would  relent  ignominiously. 
She  pried  his  eyes  gently  open  with 
her  fingers,  and  then  kissed  them,  as 
softly  as  a  tiny  bird  might  have  done. 
Gradually  she  crawled  into  the  ham 
mock  with  him,  regardless  of  non- 
assistance. 

"  Augustness,"  she  said,  her  arms 
about  his  neck  now,  though  she  was  sit 
ting  up  and  leaning  over  him.  "  Lis 
ten  ad  me." 

"I'm  listening." 

"Look  ad  me." 

He  looked,  frowned,  smiled,  and 
then  kissed  her.  She  laughed  under 
her  breath,  such  a  queer,  triumphant, 
mocking  small  laugh.  It  made  him 
frown  again,  but  she  kissed  the  frown 
into  a  smile  once  more.  Then  she  sat  up. 

"Pray  excuse  me.  I  wan'  sit  ad 
your  feet  and  talk  ad  you." 

"  Can't  you  talk  here?"  he  demanded, 
jealously . 

75 


A 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Nod  so  well.  I  gittin'  dazzled. 
Permit  me,"  she  coaxed.  He  released 
her  grudgingly.  She  sat  close  to  him 
on  the  floor.  She  sighed  heavily,  hyp 
ocritically. 

"  \Yhat  is  it  now?" 

"  Well,  you  know  I  telling  you  about 
those  moneys." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  wearily.  "  Let's  shut 
up  on  this  money  question.  I'm  sick 
of  it." 

"I  lige  make  confession  ad  you." 

"Well?" 

"I  god  seventeen  brudders  and  sis 
ters!"  she  said,  with  slow  and  solemn 
emphasis. 

"  What!"  He  almost  rolled  out  of  the 
hammock  in  his  amazement. 

"Seventeen!"  She  nodded  with  omi 
nous  tragedy  in  her  face  and  voice. 

"Where  do  they  live?" 

"Alas!  in  so  poor  part  of  Tokyo." 

"And  your  father  and  mother?" 

"Alas!  Also  thad  fadder  an'  mud- 
der  so  ole  lige  this."  She  illustrated, 
76 


THE    ADVENTURESS 

bowing  herself  double  and  walking  fee 
bly  across  the  floor,  coughing  weakly. 

"Well?"  he  prompted  sharply. 

"  I  god  take  all  thad  money  thad  ole 
fadder  an  mudder  an'  those  seventeen 
liddle  brudders  an  sisters.  Tha's  all 
they  god  in  all  the  whole  worl'." 

"But  don't  any  of  them  work? 
Aren't  any  of  them  married?  What's 
the  matter  with  them  all?" 

"  Alas !  No.  All  of  them  too  young 
to  worg  or  marry,  excellency." 

"All  of  them  too  young?" 

"Yes.  Me— how  ole  /am?  Oldes' 
of  all!  I  am  twenty-eight — no,  thirty 
years  ole,"  she  declared,  solemnly. 

He  nearly  collapsed.  He  knew  she 
was  a  mere  child;  knew,  moreover, 
that  she  was  lying  to  him.  She  had 
done  so  before. 

"Even  if  you  are  thirty,  I  fail  to  see 
how  you  can  have  seventeen  broth 
ers  and  sisters  younger  than  your 
self." 

She  lost  herself  a  moment,  Then  she 
77 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

said,  triumphantly,  "My  fadder  have 
two  wives!" 

He  surveyed  her  in  studious  silence 
a  moment.  Her  attitude  of  trouble 
and  despair  did  not  deceive  him  in 
the  slightest.  Nevertheless,  he  wanted 
to  laugh  outright  at  her,  she  was  such 
a  ridiculous  fraud. 

"  Do  you  know  what  they'd  call  you 
in  my  country?"  he  said,  gravely. 

She  shook  her  head. ' 

"An  adventuress!" 

"Ah,  how  nize!"  She  sighed  with 
envious  blissfulness.  "  I  wish  I  live  ad 
your  country — be  ad venturessesses. " 

"How  much  do  you  want  now. 
Yuki?" 

She  pretended  to  calculate  on  his 
fingers. 

"  Twenty-five  dollar,"  she  announced. 

He  gave  it  to  her,  and  she  slipped 
it  into  the  bosom  of  her  kimono.  He 
watched  her  curiously,  wondering  what 
she  did  with  all  the  money  she  secured 
from  him. 

78 


THE    ADVENTURESS 

All  of  a  sudden  she  put  this  ques 
tion  to  him. 

"Sa-ay,  how  much  it  taking  go  ad 
America?" 

"How  much?  Oh,  not  much.  De 
pends  how  you  go.  Four  hundred,  or 
fix*e  hundred  dollars,  possibly." 

She  groaned.  "  How  much  come  ad 
Japan?" 

"The  same." 

She  sighed.  "Sa-ay,  kind  august- 
ness,  I  wan'  go  ad  America.  Pray 
give  me  money  go  there." 

"I'll  take  you  some  day,  Yuki." 

She  retreated  before  this  offer. 

"Ah,  thangs  —  yes,  some  day,  of 
course."  Then,  after  a  meditative  mo 
ment  :  "  Sa-ay,  it  taking  more  money 
than  thad  three- four  hundled  dollar 
whicheven?" 

"Yes;  about  that  much  again  for 
incidentals — possibly  more." 

She  sighed  hugely  this  time,  and  he 
knew  she  was  not  affecting. 

A  few  days  later,  poking  among  her 
79 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

pretty  belongings,  as  he  so  much  liked 
to  do — she  was  out  in  the  garden  gath 
ering  flowers  for  their  dinner- table — 
he  found  her  little  jewel-box.  Like 
everything  else  she  possessed,  it  was 
daintily  perfumed.  At  the  top  lay  the 
few  pieces  of  jewelry  he  had  bought  for 
her  on  different  occasions  when  he  had 
taken  her  on  trips  to  the  city.  He 
lifted  the  top  tray,  and  then  he  saw 
something  that  startled  him.  It  was 
a  roll  of  bank-bills.  He  took  it  out  and 
counted  it.  There  was  not  quite  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  He  calcu 
lated  all  he  had  given  her.  It  amount 
ed  to  a  little  over  twice  this  sum.  She 
had  been  saving,  after  all !  What  was 
her  object? 

And,  his  suspicions  awakened  by  this 
discovery,  he  searched  uneasily  further 
through  her  apartments,  and  discovered, 
rolled  like  a  huge  piece  of  carpet  and 
covered  over  by  a  large  basket,  the 
cre'pe  and  silks  she  had  protested  were 
stolen. 

Bo 


VII 

( 

MY  WIFE! 

THE  second  time  his  wife  left  him, 
Jack  Bigelow  was  very  wretched.  He 
missed  her  exceedingly,  though  he 
would  not  have  admitted  it,  for  he  was 
also  very  angry  with  her. 

When  she  had  gone  away  that  first 
time,  so  soon  after  their  marriage,  he 
had  not  felt  her  absence  as  he  did  now, 
for  then  she  had  not  become  a  necessity 
to  him.  But  she  had  lived  with  him 
now  two  whole  months,  and  had  become 
a  part  of  his  life.  She  was  not  a  mere 
passing  fancy,  and  he  knew  it  was 
folly  to  endeavor  so  to  convince  him 
self,  as  in  his  resentment  at  her  treat 
ment  he  was  trying  to  do. 

The  house  was  desolate  without  her. 
81 


A    JAPANESE     NIGHTINGALE 


Everywhere  there  were  evidences  of  his 
little  girl.  Here  a  pair  of  her  tiny 
sandals,  some  piece  of  tawdry  kan- 
zashi  for  her  hair,  her  koto,  samisen, 
and  little  drum;  in  the  zashishi,  in  her 
own  little  room,  and  all  over  the  house 
lingered  the  faint  odor  of  her  favorite 
perfume,  so  subtle  it  made  the  young 
man  weak. 

He  grew  to  hate  the  silence  of  the 
rooms.  Their  household  had  always 
been  small,  with  just  a  man  and  maid 
to  wait  on  them;  and  now  only  one 
presence  gone  from  it,  and  yet  how 
painfully  quiet  the  place  had  grown! 
He  realized  what  all  her  little  move 
ments  had  become  to  him.  He  stayed 
out-doors  as  much  as  he  could,  only  to 
return  restlessly  to  the  house,  with  a 
faint  hope  that  perhaps  she  was  hiding 
somewhere  in  it,  and  playing  some 
prank  on  him,  as  she  was  fond  of  do 
ing,  bursting  out  from  some  unexpected 
place  of  hiding.  But  there  was  no 
trace  of  her  anywhere;  and  when  the 
82 


MY    WIFE  ! 


second  day  actually  passed,  the  realiza 
tion  that  she  was  indeed  gone  forced 
itself  home  to  him,  leaving  him  stupid 
with  rage  and  despair. 

He  was  bitterly  angry  with  her.  She 
had  no  right  to  leave  him  like  this, 
without  a  word  of  explanation.  How 
was  he  to  know  where  she  had  gone 
or  what  might  happen  to  her?  And 
the  thought  of  anything  dire  really 
overtaking  her  nearly  drove  him  dis 
tracted.  He  hung  around  the  bal 
conies  of  the  house,  wandered  down 
into  the  garden,  and  strayed  restlessly 
about.  And  all  the  time  he  knew  he 
was  waiting  for  her,  and  in  the  wait 
ing  doubling  his  misery. 

She  came  back  in  four  days,  slipped 
into  the  house  noiselessly  and  ran  up 
to  her  room.  He  heard  her,  knew  she  had 
returned,  but  checked  his  first  impulse 
to  go  to  her,  and  threw  himself  back  on  a 
couch,  where  he  assumed  a  careless  at 
titude,  which  he  relentlessly  changed  to 
a  stern,  unapproachable,  forbidding  one. 
~ 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Suddenly  he  heard  her  voice.  It 
came  floating  down  the  stairs,  every 
weird  minor  note  thrilling,  mocking, 
fascinating  him.  "  Toko-ton-yare  ron- 
ton-ton!"  she  sang.  Then  the  voice 
ceased  a  moment.  She  was  waiting 
for  him  to  call  her.  He  did  not  move. 
He  was  certainly  very  angry  with  her. 
He  would  not  forgive  her  readily. 

She  began  beating  on  her  drum. 
He  heard  her  making  a  great  noise  in 
the  little  room  up-stairs,  and  understood 
her  object.  She  was  trying  to  attract 
him.  Suddenly  she  whirled  down  the 
stairs  and  burst  in  on  him  with  a  merry 
peal  of  laughter. 

He  ignored  her  sternly.  She  ceased 
her  noise  and  laughter,  and,  approach 
ing  him,  studied  him  with  her  head 
tilted  bewitchingly  on  one  side. 

"You  angery  ad  me,  excellency?" 
she  inquired  with  solicitude. 

No  reply. 

"  You  very  mad  ad  me,  augustness?" 

Still  no  reply. 

84 


MY    WIFE  ! 

"  You  very  cross  ad  me,  my  lord?" 

Jack  regarded  her  in  contemptuous 
silence. 

She  shouted  now,  a  high,  mocking, 
joyous  note  in  her  laughter. 

"Hah!  You  very,  very,  very,  very 
a ff ended,  Mister  Bigelow?" 

"  It  seems  to  please  you,  apparently," 
said  Jack,  scathingly,  wasting  his  sar 
casm,  and  turning  his  eyes  from  her. 

She  laughed  wickedly. 

"Ah,  tha's  so  nize." 

"What  is?"  he  demanded,  sharply. 

"Thad  you  loog  so  anger y.  Myi 
You  loog  like  grade  big — whad  you 
call  thad? — toranadodo."  She  knew 
how  to  pronounce  "  tornado,"  but  she 
wanted  to  make  him  laugh.  She  failed 
in  her  purpose,  however.  She  tried  an 
other  way. 

"How  you  change!"  She  sighed 
with  beatific  delight. 

Jack  growled. 

"Dear  me!     I  thing  you  grown  more 
nize-loogin,"  she  said. 
85 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


Jack  got  up  and  walked  across  to 
the  window,  turning  his  back  de 
liberately  on  her,  and  whistling  with 
forced  gayety,  his  hands  in  his  pock 
ets.  She  approached  him  with  feigned 
^timidity  and  stood  at  his  elbow. 

"You  glad  see  me  bag,  excellency?" 

"No!"  shortly. 

This  emphatic  answer  frightened  her. 
She  was  not  so  sure  of  herself,  after 
all. 

"You  wan'  me  go  'way?"  she  asked, 
in  the  smallest  voice. 

"Yes." 

She  loitered  only  a  moment,  and 
then  "Ah-bah"  (good-bye)  she  said 
softly. 

He  felt,  for  he  would  not  turn  around 
to  see,  that  she  was  crossing  the  room 
slowly,  reluctantly.  He  heard  the 
shoji  pushed  aside,  and  then  shut  to. 
He  was  alone!  He  sprang  forward 
and  called  her  name  aloud.  She  came 
running  back  to  him  and  plunged  into 
his  arms.  He  held  her  close,  almost 
86 


MY    WIFE 


fiercely.  The  anger  was  all  gone. 
His  face  was  white  and  drawn.  The 
dread  of  losing  her  again  had  over 
powered  him.  When  she  tried  to  ex 
tricate  herself  from  his  arms,  he  would 
not  let  her  go.  He  sat  down  on  one 
of  the  chairs,  and  held  her  on  his  knee. 
She  was  laughing  now,  laughing  and 
pouting  at  his  white  face. 

"  My  crashes ! ' '  she  cried.  "  You  loog 
lige  ole  Chinese  priest  ad  the  temple." 
She  pulled  a  long  face,  and  drew  her 
pretty  eyes  up  high  with  her  finger 
tips;  then  she  chanted  some  solemn 
words,  mocking  mirthfully  her  ances 
tors'  religion. 

But  her  husband  was  grave.  He 
had  not  the  heart  to  find  mirth  even 
in  her  naughtiness. 

"Yuki,"  he  said,  "you  must  be  se- 
ous  for  a  moment  and  listen  to  me." 

"I    listening  Mr.    Solemn  -  Angery- 
Patch!"    She   meant   "Cross-patch." 
You  loog  lige — " 

"Where  did  you  go?" 
87 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


"Oh,  jus' liddle  bit  visit." 

"  Where  did  you  go?"  he  repeated, 
insistently. 

"Sa-ay,  I  forgitting." 

"Answer  me." 

She  pretended  to  think,  and  then  sud 
denly  to  remember,  sighing  hypocrit 
ically  the  while. 

"I  lige  forgitting,"  she  said. 

"Forgetting  what?" 

"  Where  1  been." 

"Why?" 

"  Tha's  so  sad.  Alas!  I  visiting  thad 
ole  fadder  an'  mudder  ninety  -  nine 
and  one  hundled  years  ole,  and  those 
seventeen  liddle  brudders  an'  sisters. 
You  missing  me  very  much?"  she 
changed  from  the  subject  of  her  where 
abouts. 

"No!"  he  said,  shortly,  stung  by  her 
falsity. 

"I  don'  sing  so!" 

"  Where  were  you,  Yuki?" 

"Now,  whad   you   wan'    know    for, 
sinze  you  don'  like  me  whicheven?" 
88 


MY    WIFE  1 

"Did  I  say  so?" 

"You  say  you  don'  miss." 

"I  lied,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "Where 
were  you?" 

"Jus'  over  cross  street,  see  my  ole 
friend  ad  tea-garden. " 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  were  visit 
ing  your  people?" 

She  was  not  at  all  abashed. 

"  Sa-ay,  firs'  you  saying  you  miss  me : 
then  thad  you  lie.  Sa-ay,  you  big  lie, 
I  jus'liddlebitlie." 

"Yuki,  listen  to  me.  If  you  leave 
me  like  this  again,  you  need  never 
come  back.  Do  you  understand?" 

"Never?" 

"I  mean  that." 

"  Whad  you  goin'  do?  Git  you  nud- 
der  wife?" 

He  pushed  her  from  him  in  savage 
disgust.  She  laughed  with  infinite  rel 
ish. 

He  sat  down  a  little  distance  from  her, 
and  put  his  face  wearily  between  his 
hands.  Yuki  regarded  him  a  moment, 
89 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


and  then  she  silently  went  to  him, 
pulled  his  hands  down,  and  kissed  hi» 
lips. 

"  I  have  missed  you  terribly/'  he  said, 
hoarsely. 

She  was  all  compunction. 

"  I  very  sawry.  I  din  know  you 
caring  very  much  for  poor  liddle  me, 
an  p'raps  I  bedder  nod  come  bag  ad 
you." 

"  Why  did  you  come,  then?"  he  asked, 
gently. 

"I  coon'  help  myself,"  she  said,  for 
lornly.  "  My  feet  aching  run  bag  ad 
you,  my  eyes  ill  to  see  you,  my  hands 
gone  mad  to  touch  you." 

She  had  grown  in  a  moment  serious, 
but  also  melancholy. 

After  a  pause  she  said,  more  bright 
ly,  "I  bringin'  you  something — some 
thing  so  nize,  dear  my  lord." 

"  What  is  it,  Yuki,  dear?"  He  was 
reluctant  to  let  her  go  even  for  a  moment. 

"  Flowers,"  she  said  —  "  summer 
flowers." 


MY   WIFE 


He  released  her,  and  she  brought 
them  to  him,  a  huge  bunch  of  azaleas. 
She  buried  her  delightful  little  nose 
in  them.  "Ah,"  she  said,  "flowers 
mos'  sweetes'  thing  in  all  the  worl', 
an'  all  them  same  flowers  for  you,  for 
you." 

"Where  did  you  get  them,  dear?"  he 
asked,  taking  her  hands  instead  of  the 
flowers,  and  drawing  her,  flowers  and 
all,  into  his  arms.  She  faltered  a  lit 
tle,  and  then  said,  with  the  old  dar 
ing  smile  flashing  back  in  her  face: 
"  Nize  Japanese  gents  making  me  pres 
ent  those  flowers." 

He  caught  her  wrists  in  a  grip  of  iron. 
"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded, 
fiercely,  wild  jealousy  assailing  him. 

She  pulled  herself  from  him,  and  re 
garded  the  little  wrists  ruefully. 

"Ain'  you  shamed?"  she  accused. 

"Yes!"  He  kissed  the  little  wrists 
with  an  inward  sob.  "  Tell  me  all,  my 
little  one.  Please  do  not  hide  anything 
from  me.  I  can't  bear  it." 


rrv 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Thad  Japanese  gent  wanter  marry 
with  me,"  she  informed  him,  calmly 
smiling,  and  dimpling  as  if  it  amused 
her,  and  then  making  a  face  to  show 
him  her  feelings  in  the  matter. 

"  My !  How  he  adore  me ! ' '  she  added, 
vividly. 

"Marry  with  you!  What  do  you 
mean?  You  are  my  wife." 

"Yes,  bud  he  din  know  thad,"  she 
said,  consolingly;  "an'  see,  I  bring 
his  same  flowers  unto  you." 

He  took  them  from  her  arms.  They 
were  all  crushed  now,  and  it  distressed 
her.  No  Japanese  can  bear  to  see  a 
flower  abused.  She  fingered  some  of 
the  petals  sadly;  then  she  sighed,  look 
ing  up  at  him  with  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

"Tha's  mos'  beautiful  thing'  in  all 
the  whole  worl',"  she  said,  indicating 
the  flowers — "so  pure,  so  kind,  so 
sweet." 

"I  know  something  more  beautiful 
and  sweet,  and — and  pure." 
92 


MY    WIFE  ! 


"Ah,  whad?"  she  said,  her  face  shin 
ing,  the  pupils  of  the  blue  eyes  so  large 
as  to  make  them  look  almost  black. 

"My  wife!"  he  breathed. 


vin 

YUKI'S  HOME 


EVERY  day,  all  unknown  to  Yuki, 
her  husband  looked  in  her  little  jewel- 
box.  The  pile  of  bills  grew  larger. 
He  no  longer  refused  her  requests  for 
money.  The  fund  was  quite  large  now. 
The  last  time  he  had  counted  it  there 
were  four  hundred  dollars.  He  took  a 
whim  to  make  it  five  hundred,  and 
that  same  day  gave  her  a  clear  hun 
dred  dollars. 

She  had  given  him  a  solemn  promise 
never  to  leave  him  again  without  his 
knowledge  and  consent,  and  for  a  whole 
month  she  had  kept  steadfastly  at  home. 
It  was  the  happiest  month  in  his  life,  a 
month  that  spelled  naught  else  but  joy 
and  sunshine. 

94 


YUKI'S    HOME 


But  the  day  after  he  had  given  her 
the  hundred  dollars  she  came  to  him 
and  begged  very  humbly  to  be  permitted 
to  visit  her  old  father  and  mother  and 
seventeen  little  brothers  and  sisters. 
She  still  kept  up  this  deception.  He 
refused  her  almost  gruffly.  He  had 
grown  selfish  and  spoiled  under  her 
care.  All  the  day,  however,  he  watched 
her  suspiciously,  fearful  lest  she  should 
slip  away.  And  he  was  right.  In  the 
evening,  when  she  had  left  him  for  a 
moment,  he  saw  her  leaving  the  house. 
He  took  his  hat,  and,  keeping  at  a 
good  distance  from  her,  but  never  los 
ing  sight  of  her  for  a  moment,  he  fol 
lowed  her. 

Twilight  was  falling.  Softly,  tender 
ly,  the  darkness  swept  away  the  exqui 
site  rays  of  red  and  yellow  that  the 
departing  sun  had  left  behind,  for  it 
was  crossing  the  waters,  until,  far  in 
the  distance,  it  dipped  deep  down  as 
though  swallowed  up  by  the  bay. 

Yuki  was  walking  rapidly  towards 
95 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Tokyo.  It  was  only  a  short  distance, 
but  nevertheless  the  thought  of  her  lit 
tle  tender  feet  treading  it  alone,  and  at 
such  an  hour,  unnerved  her  husband. 
Whatever  her  mission,  wherever  she  was 
going,  he  would  follow  her.  She  be 
longed  to  him  completely.  She  should 
never  escape  him  now,  he  told  himself. 

She  seemed  to  know  her  way,  and 
showed  no  hesitation  or  fear  when 
once  in  Tokyo,  but  bent  her  steps  quick 
ly  and  with  assurance,  until  finally 
they  were  before  the  great  terminal 
station  at  Shimbashi.  They  had  now 
come  a  long  distance.  The  girl  looked 
tired;  weary  shadows  were  under  her 
eyes,  as  she  passed  into  the  railway 
enclosure  and  bought  a  ticket  for  a  town 
suburb  a  short  distance  from  Tokyo. 

Her  husband  went  to  the  window,  in 
quired  where  the  girl  was  going,  and 
bought  a  ticket  for  the  same  place. 

Then  began  the  long  journey  in  the 
uncomfortable  train,  where  there  were 
no  sleeping  accommodations  whatever. 
96 


YUKI'S    HOME 

Yuki  found  a  seat,  and  sat  very  quietly 
staring  out  at  the  flying  darkness. 
After  a  time  she  put  her  head  back 
against  the  seat  and,  despite  the  jolt 
ing  of  the  train,  fell  asleep. 

Her  husband  was  close  to  her  now 
— in  the  next  seat,  in  fact.  He  could 
have  touched  her,  as  he  so  longed  to 
do,  but  would  not  for  fear  of  disturbing 
or  frightening  her. 

When  they  reached  the  little  town, 
the  banging  of  the  doors,  the  blowing 
of  whistles,  and  shouts  of  the  conductors 
awakened  her.  She  came  to  life  with 
a  start,  gathered  her  little  belongings 
together,  and  left  the  train,  her  hus 
band  still  following  her. 

It  was  a  refined  and  beautiful  little 
town  they  had  arrived  at,  apparently 
the  home  of  the  exclusive  and  cultivated 
Japanese.  Its  atmosphere  was  grate 
ful  and  pleasing  after  the  crowded 
city  of  Tokyo,  with  its  endless  labyrinth 
of  narrow  streets  and  grotesque  sign 
boards,  and  ceaseless  noises. 
G  97 


A     JAi'ANKSK     NIGHTINGALE 

Yuki  had  not  far  to  walk.  Only  a 
few  steps  from  the  little  station,  and 
then  she  was  before  one  of  those  old- 
fashioned,  pretentious  palaces  once  af 
fected  by  the  nobles.  There  were  signs 
of  neglect  about  the  house  and  gardens, 
which  had  fallen  out  of  repair.  No  coo 
lies  or  servants  were  in  sight.  At  the 
garden  gate  Yuki  paused  a  moment, 
leaning  wearily  against  it,  ere  she 
opened  and  passed  through,  up  the  gar 
den  walk,  and  disappeared  into  the 
shadows  of  the  palace. 

Her  husband  stood  for  a  long  time 
as  though  rooted  to  the  spot.  Then 
very  slowly  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the 
railway  station,  bought  his  ticket,  and 
returned  to  Tokyo.  He  felt  sure  she 
would  come  back  to  him. 

And  she  did,  hardly  two  days  later. 
He  was  very  gentle  to  her  this  time. 
There  were  no  more  questions  asked, 
and  she  vouchsafed  no  explanation. 

But  she  came  back  to  him  strangely 
docile  and  submissive.  All  the  old 
98 


YUKl  S    HOME 

mockery  and  folly  had  vanished.  She 
was  angelic  in  her  sweet  tenderness 
and  solicitude.  But  once  he  found 
her  in  tears.  She  protested  they  had 
come  there  because  she  had  laughed 
so  hard.  Another  time,  when  he  offered 
her  money,  she  refused  passionately  to 
accept  it.  It  was  the  first  time  since 
she  had  lived  with  him.  Thereafter 
she  refused  to  take  even  the  regular 
weekly  allowance  agreed  upon.  He 
looked  in  her  little  jewel-box,  and  found 
the  money  all  gone. 

Her  docility  and  gentleness  strength 
ened  his  confidence  in  her.  He  was 
sure  she  would  never  leave  him  again. 
He  even  told  her  of  this  belief,  and  she 
did  not  deny  it.  But  her  eyes  were  tear 
ful.  With  boyish  insistence  he  teased 
her. 

"  Tell  me  so — that  you  will  never  leave 
me  again." 

"  Never?"  she  said,  but  the  word  slip 
ped  her  lips  as  a  question. 

"  Repeat  it  after  me,"  he  demanded. 
99 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"  Say :    '  I — shall — never — never — leave 
you  again. ' ' 

"Ah,  you  makin'  fun  ad  me/'  she 
protested,  begging  the  question. 

But  he  still  persisted,  and  made  her 
repeat  slowly  after  him,  word  by  word, 
that  she  would  remain  with  him  till 
death  should  part  them. 

One  day  he  found  her  laboriously 
occupied  at  her  small  writing-desk. 
Her  little  hand  flew  down  the  page, 
rapidly  drawing  the  strange  characters 
of  her  country's  letters. 

"What  are  you  doing?  You  look 
as  wise  and  solemn  as  a  female 
Buddha." 

Yuki  carefully  blotted  and  covered 
her  letter.  She  did  not  answer  him. 
Instead  she  held  up  her  little  stained 
fingers,  to  show  him  the  ink  on  them. 
He  sat  down  beside  her,  kissing  the 
tips  of  her  fingers. 

"To  whom  were  you  writing,  fairy- 
sage?"  he  said. 

"  To  whom  ?     My  brudder. ' ' 
100 


YUKI'S    HOME 

"Your  brother!  Ah,  you  have  a 
brother,  have  you?  And  where  is 
he?" 

She  still  hesitated,  and  he  watched 
her  keenly. 

"He  live  ad  Japan,"  she  said,  after 
a  long  moment. 

"Japan  is  quite  a  big  place,"  ^re 
marked  her  husband,  suggestively. 
"He  has  rather  large  quarters  for  one 
fellow,  don't  you  think?" 

"Japan  liddle  bit  country,"  she 
argued,  trying  to  change  the  subject. 
"America,  perhaps,  grade  big  place, 
big  as  half  the  whole  worl' — " 

"  Not  quite,"  interposed  her  husband, 
smiling. 

"  Well,  big's  one-quarter  of  the  worl', 
anyhow/'  she  declared.  "Bud  Japan! 
Mos'  liddle  bit  insignificant  spot  on  all 
the  beautiful  maps." 

"What  part  of  Japan  does  your 
family  live  in?" 

"Liddle  bit  town  two  hundled  miles 
north  of  Tokyo." 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Indeed." 

She  had  spoken  the  truth,  he  knew. 

"Why  doesn't  your  brother  come  to 
see  you?" 

Now  that  he  had  commenced  it,  he 
stuck  to  his  catechism  doggedly. 

"  He  don'  know  where  I  live,"  she  said. 

"Don't  know!  That's  strange.  Why 
doesn't  he?" 

"I'fraidtellin'." 

"Afraid  of  what?" 

"Afraid  he  disowning  me  forever." 

"Why  should  he  do  that?" 

He  was  getting  interested.  He  dis 
liked  wringing  her  secrets  from  her  in 
this  wise.  He  wanted  her  confidence 
unsolicited;  but  his  curiosity  had  the 
better  of  him.  "  Why  should  he  disown 
you?"  he  repeated. 

"Because  I  marrying — "  she  paused, 
somewhat  piteously,  holding  one  of 
his  hands  closely  between  her  own 
small  ones,  and  entreatingly  pressing 
it  as  though  begging  him  not  to  pursue 
his  questions. 

1 02 


YUKI'S    HOME 

"Well?"  he  said — "because  you 
married — " 

"  You,"  she  finished. 

"Oh!"  His  ejaculation  was  rueful. 
Then  he  laughed,  and  squared  his 
shoulders,  and  shook  his  finger  at 
her. 

"What's  the  matter  with  me?  Am 
I  not  good  enough?" 

"Too  honorably  good,"  she  declared, 
humbly. 

"Then  why  does  your  family  object 
to  receiving  me  into  its  bosom,  eh?" 

"Because  you  jus'  barbarian,"  she 
said,  apologetically,  and  then  swiftly 
tried  to  make  amends.  "  Barbarian 
mos'  nize  of  all.  Also  /  am  liddle  bit 
barbarian.  I  god  them  same  barbarous 
eyes  an'  oogly  hair — " 

"Loveliest  hair  in  the  world/'  he 
said,  stroking  it  fondly.  "But  never 
mind,  dearie.  Don't  look  so  distressed. 
It's  not  your  fault,  of  course,  that  your 
people  disapprove  of  me." 

"They  don'  dis'prove,"  she  inter- 
103 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

rupted  him,  her  distress  deepening. 
"They  don'  never  seen  you  even." 

"  But  I  thought  you  said — " 

"I  jus'  guess.  Tha's  why  I  don' 
tell  thad  brudder.  Mebbe  he  dis 'prove 
you  when  he  see  you  grade  big  barba 
rian.  Tha's  bedder  nod  tell  unto  him." 

"But  where  does  he  think  you  are 
all  the  time?" 

"He?"  She  lost  her  head  a  mo 
ment.  "Likewise,"  she  continued,  "he 
also  travel  from  home.  Perhaps  he 
also  marrying  with  beautiful  barbarian 
leddy.  Tha's  whad  I  dunno." 

"I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  her 
husband.  "But  never  mind.  If  you 
don't  like  the  subject,  and  it's  plain  you 
don't,  you  sha'n't  be  bothered  with  it." 

"Thangs,"  she  said,  gratefully. 

On  another  day,  as  she  sat  opening 
his  American  mail  with  her  small 
paper-knife,  a  picture  of  a  young  Amer 
ican  girl  fell  from  the  envelope.  Yuki 
picked  it  up,  and  regarded  it  with  dilated 
eyes  and  lips  that  quivered.  It  was  the 

T 


YURI'S    HOME 

first  shock  of  jealousy  she  had  expe 
rienced.  One  of  his  own  country 
women  then  must  love  him.  No  Jap 
anese  girl  would  send  her  picture  to 
any  man  save  her  lover. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  tear  the  pict 
ure  across.  She  did  not  want  him 
to  see  it.  Perhaps  even  the  pictured 
face  might  win  him  back,  she  thought 
jealously.  But  she  did  not  destroy  it. 
She  hid  it  in  the  sleeve  of  her  kimono, 
and  for  a  whole  week  she  tortured 
herself  with  drawing  it  forth  from  its 
hiding-place  and  studying  the  face 
whenever  she  was  alone  a  moment, 
comparing  it  with  her  own  exquisite 
one  in  her  small  mirror. 

Then  conscience,  or  perhaps  natural 
feminine  curiosity  to  know  who  her 
rival  was,  prompted  her  to  make  humble 
confession  to  her  husband  of  her  theft. 

He  took  the  matter  gayly,  and  seemed 

exuberantly  happy  at  the  idea  of  her 

being  jealous,  for  she  could  not  well 

hide  this  fact  from  him.     He  gloated 

105 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

over  this  apparent  evidence  of  her  love 
for  him. 

"Isn't  she  lovely?"  he  asked,  en 
thusiastically,  pointing  to  the  picture, 
and  then  pretending  to  hug  it  to  him. 

"No,"  said  Yuki,  proudly.  "Mos' 
oogly  girl  in  all  the  whole  worl'.  Soach 
silliest  things  on  her  haed.  I  don' 
keer  tha's  hat  or  nod.  Flowers,  birds, 
beas',  perhaps,  an'  rollin'  her  eyes  this- 
a-way — " 

"This  is  my  sister,"  said  Jack, 
gravely.  "I  am  sorry  you  don't  like 
her,  Yuki.  She'd  be  just  the  sort  of 
girl  to  love  you." 

Her  little  spurt  of  temper  flickered 
out  pitifully. 

"Ah,  pray  forgive  me,"  she  im 
plored.  "I  mos'  silliest  mousmd  in  all 
Japan.  She  jus'  lovely,  mos'  sweet 
beautiful  girl  in  all  the  whole  worl'. 
Jus'  like  you,  my  lord." 


IX 

THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY 

THE  mellow  summer  was  gone. 
With  the  dawn  of  the  autumn  the 
languor  of  the  country  seemed  to  in 
crease.  Now  that  the  weather  was 
cooler,  however,  they  made  frequent 
trips  to  the  city,  visiting  the  chrysan 
themum  shows,  loitering  through 
Uyeno  park,  the  Shiba  temples,  and 
bazaars.  And  one  day  Jack  shook 
gayly  before  her  eyes  a  really  awe- 
inspiring  document.  It  was,  in  fact, 
an  invitation,  written  in  fine  French, 
from  a  Japanese  person  of  high  rank, 
inviting  him  to  attend  a  very  impor 
tant  function,  which  was  to  be  given 
at  the  H6tel  Imperial  on  the  Mikado's 
birthday,  which  function  was  to  be 
107 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

honored  by  the  presence  of  "  les  princes 
et  les  princesses." 

"We  are  going,  of  course,"  he  told 
her.  "  It  will  be  a  change,  and,  besides, 
I  want  to  show  you  off  to  my  friends. 
There'll  be  hosts  of  them  there,  you 
know." 

But  she  protested.  First  she  set 
forth  as  excuse  the  fact  that  she  was 
only  an  honorably  rude  and  insignif 
icant  humble  geisha  girl,  who  would 
be  out  of  place  in  so  great  and  ex 
traordinary  an  assemblage. 

Then  her  husband  quite  seriously 
reproved  her,  and  reminded  her  forcibly 
that  she  was  anything  but  an  insignif 
icant  geisha  girl.  She  was,  in  fact,  a 
very  important  person — his  wife. 

Ah,  yes,  she  admitted  that  she  had 
indeed  grown  in  caste  since  her  mar 
riage  with  him ;  nevertheless,  they 
had  lived  so  honorably  secluded  to 
gether  that  she  had  forgotten  all  the 
polite  mannerisms  of  society,  which  she 
had  never  been  acquainted  with  at  all, 
108 


THE    MIKADO'S    BIRTHDAY 

bejng  only  a  crude  girl  of  humble  parent 
age.  She  would  surely  disgrace  not 
only  both  of  them  by  her  behavior,  but 
doubtless  the  whole  assemblage.  She 
would  not  know  how  to  act,  how  to  look, 
and  when  to  speak. 

Then  Jack  insisted,  with  affected 
selfishness,  that  she  should  look  at 
and  speak  to  no  one  but  himself.  He 
would  commit  hari-kari,  or  joshi,  or 
any  old  kind  of  Japanese  suicide,  other 
wise.  And  as  for  her  manners,  they 
were  lovely,  perfect,  just  right. 

"Ah,  bud  you — "  she  deprecated. 
"You  don'  understand  you  big  bar 
barian.  Those  same  honorable  mon 
sters,  Japanese  princes,  whad,  before 
all  the  gods,  they  goin'  to  thing  of 
me?" 

"That  you  are  absolutely  adorable. 
How  could  they  help  thinking  so,  un 
less  they  are  stone  blind.  Besides, 
this  isn't  a  Japanese  affair  at  all.  It's 
at  a  European  hotel,  and  there'll  be 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  people  there. 
109 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

I  was  lucky  to  get  the  invitations. 
They  aren't  for  every  one,  you  know. 
This  is  a  big  thing." 

"  You  so  big,"  she  .said,  proudly. 
"Well,  no.      It    had    really    nothing 
to  do  with  my  size.      You  see,  I  have 
a  half- Jap  friend  in  America,  and  of 
course  it's  through  him  I'm  favored." 

"Ah,  thad  half -Jap,  he  was  very 
high-up  man  ad  Japan,  perhaps?" 

"  Well,  he  was  connected  with  some 
of  the  big  families,  though  he  was  quite 
poor." 

"Thad,"  said  Yuki,  with  sudden 
vehemence,  "is  no  madder  ad  Japan. 
Money!  Who  has  thad  money?  Nod 
the  ole  families,  the  flower  of  the  coun 
try;  jus'  the  shop-keepers  and  the 
politicians." 

Her   husband    was    startled   at   her 
outbreak.     He   was  astonished  at  her 
knowledge   of    existing    conditions    in 
her  country.     But  she  did  not  pursue 
the  subject,  saying  she  disliked  it. 
And  the  ball?     What  about  that? 
no 


THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY 

Well,  she  would  not  go  with  him. 
lie  must  go  to  that  all  alone,  for  the 
million  big  reasons  she  had  given  him. 
Moreover,  all  the  ladies  would  wear 
Parisian  toilettes.  It  would  be  a  dis 
grace  for  his  wife  to  go  in  a  kimono. 

Again  he  was  astonished  at  her. 
How  did  she  know  that  on  such  oc 
casions  the  ladies,  Japanese  included, 
dressed  in  European  gowns? 

Apparently  she  knew  more  concern 
ing  such  matters  than  he  had  imagined. 
It  was  becoming  plainer  to  him  every 
day  that  his  wife  was  of  no  ordinary 
family.  And  then  the  memory  of  the 
old  rambling  palace,  doubtless  her  home, 
in  the  exquisite,  aristocratic  little  town 
where  he  had  followed  her,  supported 
this  idea.  Who  was  his  wife,  after  all? 
Who  were  her  people,  and  why  had 
none  of  them  come  near  her  during  all 
these  months?  What  was  the  mean 
ing  of  the  mystery  in  which  she  had 
surrounded  herself  ever  since  he  had 
known  her.  And  now,  when  there 
in 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

was  scarcely  a  doubt  left  in  his  mind 
of  her  love  for  him,  why  had  he  failed 
to  win  her  confidence? 

"I  want  to  know  just  who  you  are, 
my  little  wife,"  he  suddenly  said.  "I 
do  not  believe  that  tale  about  your 
people.  I  know  you  are  not  a  geisha 
girl.  You  are  not,  are  you?" 

"No,"  she  said,  very  softly. 

"Then  tell  me.  Who  are  your  peo 
ple?  It  is  only  right  I  should  know 
this." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  intense 
seriousness.  Then  her  eyes  fluttered, 
and  she  went  rambling  into  one  of  her 
fairy  tales  of  nonsense. 

"My  people?  Who  they  are?  My 
august  ancestors  came  from  the  moon. 
My  one  hundled  grade  -  grandfathers 
fight  and  fight  and  fight  like  the  lion, 
and  conquer  one-half  of  all  Japan — fight 
the  shogun,  fight  the  kazoku,  fight  each 
other.  They  were  great  Samourai, 
cutting  off  the  haeds  of  aevery  humble 
mans  they  don'  like.  So  much  blood- 
112 


THE   MIKADO'S    BIRTHDAY 

shed  displeased  the  gods.  They  pun 
ishing  all  my  ancestors,  bringin'  them 
down  to  thad  same  poverty  of  those 
honorable  peebles  killed  by  them. 
Then  much  distress  an'  sadness  come 
forever  ad  our  house.  All  pride,  all 
haughty  boasting  daed  forever.  Aevery- 
body  goin'  'bout  weepin'  like  ad  a  fu 
neral.  Nobody  habby.  What  they  goin' 
do  git  bag  thad  power  an'  reeches  ag'in? 
Also  one  ancestor  have  grade  big  family 
to  keep  from  starving,  an'  one  daughter 
beautiful  as  the  moon  of  her  ancestors. 
He  weep  more  than  all  the  rest  of  those 
ancestors,  weep  an'  weep  till  he  go  blind 
like  an  owl  ad  day-time.  Then  the 
gods  begin  feel  sawry.  One  of  them 
mos'  sawry  of  all.  He  also  is  descend 
ant  of  the  Sun.  Well,  thad  sun -god 
he  comin'  down  ad  Japan,  make  big 
raddle  an'  noise,  an'  marrying  with  thad 
vsame  beautifullest  daughter  of  thad  ole 
blind  ancestor.  Thad  sun-god  my  fad- 
der.  Me?  lam  the  half-moon-half-sun 
offspring." 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


She  had  promised  to  accompany  him, 
at  all  events,  to  see  the  review  from 
the  American  -  legation  tent,  but  at 
the  last  moment  she  backed  out.  She 
had  seen  it  many  times  before,  she 
declared.  She  was  tired  of  it. 

At  first  he  swore  he  would  not  go 
without  her.  Why,  the  "  show, "  he 
declared,  would  be  nothing  to  him  with 
out  her  to  see  it  with  him.  Half  the 
pleasure — nay,  all  of  it — would  be  gone. 
He  was  really  keenly  disappointed,  but 
she  coaxed  and  wheedled  and  petted 
around  him,  till,  before  he  knew  that  he 
was  aggrieved  at  her  backsliding,  he 
was  well  on  his  way. 

The  streets  were  thronged  with  a 
motley  crowd  of  people.  Jinrikishas 
were  scurrying  hither  and  thither, 
and  little  bits  of  humanity,  in  the  shape 
of  small  men,  small  women,  small  chil 
dren,  and  small  dogs  and  cats,  were 
colliding  and  jostling  against  the  many 
ramshackle  vehicles  in  the  road.  Gay 
flags  and  bunting  were  displayed  every- 
114 


THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY 

where,  and  the  town  presented  a  gala 
appearance. 

Jack  got  out  of  his  jinrikisha  and 
pushed  his  way  through  the  crowd 
until  he  came  up  to  the  parade-grounds. 
He  found  his  way  to  the  proper  tent, 
and,  with  a  half -score  of  former  ac 
quaintances  about  him,  he  was  soon 
drawn  into  the  babble  and  gush  of 
small  talk  and  jokes  that  tourists  meet 
ing  each  other  in  foreign  lands  usually 
indulge  in. 

Once  on  the  parade-grounds,  where 
infantry,  cavalry,  and  artillery  were 
forming  themselves,  it  seemed  as  if  he 
had  suddenly  left  Japan  altogether,  and 
was  once  more  in  the  modern  Western 
world,  of  which  he  had  always  been  a 
part. 

There  was  nothing  Oriental  in  this 
brave  display  of  the  imperial  army. 
There  was  nothing  Oriental  in  this 
bustling,  noisy  crowd  of  foreigners, 
each  trying  to  outdo  the  other  in  im 
portance  and  precedence.  Only  the 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

skies  and  the  little  winds,  and,  in  the 
distance,  the  sinuous  outlines  of  the 
mountains  and  forests  beyond,  and  the 
disks  on  the  national  flag  displayed 
everywhere,  were  Japanese.  And  after 
his  long  seclusion  in  the  country  the 
glitter  dazzled  him. 

There  were  seven  thousand  men  in 
the  field,  and  the  Mikado,  surrounded 
by  his  generals,  body-guard,  outriders, 
and  standard  -  bearers,  reviewed  the 
troops;  and  then,  amid  a  great  flourish, 
and  hoarse  cheering  drowning  the 
national  hymn,  which  was  being  played 
by  all  the  bands  at  once,  he  left  the 
grounds. 

Jack  did  not  return  after  the  parade 
to  his  home,  much  as  he  would  have 
liked  to  do  so.  Some  acquaintances 
who  had  crossed  on  the  same  steamer 
with  him  on  his  way  to  Japan  carried 
him  off  triumphantly  to  their  hotel,  and 
that  night  he  went  with  them  to  the 
imperial  ball. 

It  was  very  late  when  he  went  home 

116 
. 


THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY 

to  Yuki.  There  was  a  faint  light  burn 
ing  in  the  zashishi,  and  he  wondered 
with  some  concern  whether  she  were 
sitting  up  waiting  for  him.  He  did 
not  see  her  at  first  when  he  entered 
the  room,  for  the  light  of  the  andon  had 
fluttered  down  dimly,  and  it  was  more 
the  grayness  of  the  approaching  dawn 
which  saved  the  room  from  complete 
darkness.  Crossing  the  room,  he  came 
upon  her.  She  had  fallen  asleep  on 
the  floor.  She  was  lying  on  her  back, 
her  arms  encircling  her  head.  He  was 
suddenly  struck  with  her  extreme  youth. 
She  seemed  little  more  than  a  tired 
child,  who  had  grown  weary  and  had 
fallen  asleep  among  her  toys,  for  beside 
her  on  a  tiny  foot-high  table  was  the 
little  supper  she  had  prepared  for  him, 
and  which  was  now  quite  cold.  On  the 
other  side  of  her  were  her  tiny  drum  and 
samisen,  with  which  she  had  been  at 
tempting  doubtless  to  pass  the  even 
ing  by  pulling  from  the  strings  some 
of  that  weird  music  he  knew  so  well  now. 
117 


\m 


A     JAI'ANKSi:     Mr.HTIXGALi: 

For  a  long  time  her  husband  looked 
at  her,  and  a  feeling  of  intense  isolation 
about  her  came  over  and  suddenly  pos 
sessed  him.  Why  had  he  never  been 
able  to  bridge  that  strange  distance 
which  lay  like  a  pall  between  them, 
the  feeling  always  that  she  was  not 
wholly  his  own,  that  she  had  been  but 
a  guest  within  his  house,  a  tiny  wild 
bird  that  he  had  caught  in  some  strange 
way  and  caged — caught,  though  she 
had  come  to  him,  as  it  were,  for  protec 
tion?  Just  as,  when  a  bo}^,  he  remem 
bered  how  a  robin  had  beaten  at  his 
shutters,  and  he  had  saved  it  from  an 
enemy,  and  afterwards  how  he  had  caged 
it,  and  how  it  had  pined  for  its  freedom. 

The  thought  that  he  might  yet  lose 
Yuki  caused  him  such  anguish  of  mind 
it  almost  stunned  him.  He  knelt  down 
beside  her,  and  drew  her  up  in  his  arms, 
and  then,  as  gently  as  a  mother  would 
have  done,  he  carried  her  up  the  queer 
spiral  stairway  which  led  to  their  little 
up-stairs  room. 

118 


THE  MIKADO'S  BIRTHDAY 


The  next  day  she  questioned  him 
anxiously.  Were  there  many  ladies 
more  beautiful  than  she  at  the  ball? 
Had  he  enjoyed  himself  largely  with 
them,  and  how  could  he  live  away  here 
after  from  such  mirth  and  gayety? 
Why  had  he  come  back  to  little,  in 
significant  her? 

And  he  told  her  that  never  in  all  his 
life  before  had  he  longed  so  ardently 
for  any  one  as  he  had  for  her  that  pre 
vious  night.  That  the  day  had  been 
endless ;  the  noise  and  show,  the  brassy 
merriment  and  cheer,  were  abhorrent 
to  him,  for  she  had  not  been  there  to 
rob  it  of  its  vulgarity  with  the  charm 
of  her  sweet  presence.  That  he  had 
been  rude  in  his  efforts  to  escape  it,  had 
bullied  the  jinrikimen  because  they 
had  seemed  to  creep,  and  that  happiness 
and  peace  had  only  come  back  to  him 
again  when  he  had  crossed  his  own 
threshold  and  had  taken  her  in  his  arms. 

Still  the  wistful  distress  in  her  misty 
eyes  was  only  in  part  dispelled. 
119 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Last  night."  she  said,  "I  broke 
ray  liddle  jade  bracelet.  It  is  a  bad 
omen." 

"I  will  buy  you  a  dozen  new  ones/' 
he  said. 

"One  million  dozens  cannot  mend 
jus'  thad  liddle  one,"  she  returned, 
sadly,  shaking  her  head.  "  It  is  a  bad 
omen.  Mebbe  a  warning  from  the 
gods." 

Of  what  did  they  warn  her?  That 
she  could  not  say,  but  she  had  heard 
that  such  an  accident  usually  preceded 
the  sorrows  of  love.  Perhaps  he  would 
soon  pass  away  from  her,  and,  like  the 
ghost  of  the  fisher-boy  Urashima,  who 
had  left  his  fairy  bride  to  return  to  his 
people,  he  too  would  pass  out  of  her 
life,  back  into  that  from  which  he  had 
come. 


A  BAD  OMEN 

IT  was  late  in  November.  The  parks 
were  dropping  their  autumn  glories  and 
taking  on  the  browner  hues  and  hints 
of  hoar  -  frost,  black  -  and  -  white  vest 
ments,  the  sackcloth  and  ashes  of 
winter.  The  recessional  of  the  birds 
was  dying  away  into  silence.  Soon 
the  final,  long-drawn  amen  of  the 
north-wind  would  be  breathed  out  over 
the  deserted  woods,  where  the  anthem 
of  praise  had  rung  out  to  the  worship 
ping  air  all  through  the  golden  days 
and  silver  nights  of  summer. 

The  still  beauty  of  the  autumn  even 
ing  was  piercingly  melancholy,  and, 
even  with  a  loving  sunset  still  lingering 
in  the  skies,  a  silken,  gentle  rain  was 

121 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

falling,  as  though  the  gods  were  weep 
ing  over  the  death  of  the  autumn,  were 
weeping  hopeless  tears — the  most  tragic 
of  all. 

The  little  house  that  stood  alone  on 
the  hill  faced  to  the  west,  its  wet  roofs 
and  shingles  sparkling  and  glistening 
in  the  rays  of  the  dying  sunset  that 
enveloped  it. 

Yuki  opened  a  shoji  (sliding  paper 
door)  of  her  chamber,  and  looked  out 
wistfully  at  the  city  of  Tokyo,  that 
in  the  autumn  silence  was  shining  out 
like  a  gem,  with  its  many  strange 
lights  and  colors.  She  stole  softly  out 
on  to  a  small  balony,  and  stepped  down 
into  the  tiny  garden  as  the  night  began 
to  spread  its  mantle  of  darkness.  A  few 
minutes  later  her  husband  called  to  her : 

"Yuki!     Yuki!" 

He  drew  her  into  the  room,  and  closed 
the  shoji  behind  her. 

"You  have  been  crying  again!"  he 
said,  sharply,  and  turned  her  face  up 
to  the  light. 

122 


A    BAD    OMEN 

"It  is  the  rain  on  my  face,  my  lord," 
she  answered  in  the  smallest  voice. 

"  But  you  mustn't  go  out  in  the  rain. 
You  are  quite  wet,  dear." 

"Soach  a  little,  gentle  rain,"  she 
said.  "  It  will  not  hurt  jus'  me.  I  loog- 
in'  ae  very  where  'bout  for  our  liddle 
bit  poor  nightingale.  Gone!  Perhaps 
daed !  Aeverything  dies — bird,  flowers, 
mebbe — me!" 

He  put  his  hand  over  her  mouth  with 
a  hurt  exclamation. 

"Don't!"  he  only  said. 

The  maid  brought  in  their  supper  on 
a  tray,  but  before  she  could  set  it  down 
Yuki  had  impetuously  crossed  the  room 
and  taken  it  from  her  hands. 

"Go,  go,  honorable  maid,"  she  said. 
"  I  will  with  my  own  hands  attend  my 
lord's  honorable  appetite." 

She  knelt  at  his  feet,  geisha  fashion, 
holding  the  tray  and  waiting  for  him 
to  eat,  but  he  took  it  from  her  grave 
ly,  and  put  it  on  the  small  table  be 
side  them,  and  then  silently,  tender- 
123 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

ly,  he    took   her   small    hands    in   his 
own. 

"  What  is  troubling  you,  Yuki?  You 
must  tell  me.  You  are  hiding  some 
thing  from  me.  What  has  become 
of  my  little  mocking-bird?  I  cannot 
live  without  it." 

"You  also  los'  liddle  bird?"  she 
queried,  softly — "  jus'  lige  unto  my  same 
liddle  nightingale?" 

"I  have  lost — I  am  losing  you,"  he 
said,  suddenly,  with  a  burst  of  anguish. 
"  I  cannot  make  you  out  these  last  few 
weeks.  What  has  come  over  you?  I 
miss  your  laughing  and  your  singing. 
You  are  always  sad  now;  your  eyes — 
ah,  I  cannot  bear  it."  His  voice  went 
suddenly  anxious.  "Tell  me,  is  it — 
do  you — want — need  some  more  money, 
Yuki?  You  know  you  can  have  all  you 
want." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  fiercely. 

"  No,  no,  no,  no ! "  she  cried ;  "  naever 
any  more  for  all  my  life  long,  dear  my 
lord." 

124 


A    BAD    OMEN 


"Then  why—" 

"Ah,  pray  don'  ask  why." 

"  But  why—" 

"Then  listen  unto  me.  I  nod  any 
longer  thad  liddle  bit  geisha  girl  you 
marrying  with.  I  change  grade  big 
moach.  Now  you  see  me,  I  am  one 
wooman,  mebbe  like  wooman  one 
bundled  years  ole  —  wise  —  sad  —  I 
change!" 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  You  are  changed. 
You  are  my  Undine,  and  I  have  found 
your  soul  at  last!" 

One  oppressive  afternoon,  when  a  nag 
ging,  bleating  wind  out-doors  had  pre 
vented  their  going  on  their  customary 
ramble  through  the  woods  or  on  a 
little  trip  to  the  city,  Jack  had  fallen 
asleep.  Long  before  he  had  awakened 
he  had  felt  her  warm,  soothing  presence 
near  him,  but  with  the  pleasure  it  afford 
ed  him  was  mingled  a  premonition  of 
disaster  and  a  dread  of  something  un 
happy  about  her?  He  awoke  to  find 
125 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

her  standing  by  him,  her  face  white  and 
drawn  with  a  despair  he  could  not  com 
prehend. 

"What  is  it?"  He  started  up  fear 
fully.  "Your  eyes  are  tragic!  You 
look  as  if  you  were  contemplating 
something  frightful." 

She  sank  down  to  his  feet,  and,  de 
spite  his  protests,  knelt  and  clung  to  him 
there,  sobbing  with  passionate  abandon. 

"Don't!  Don't!  I  can't  bear  you  to 
do  that.  What  is  it,  Yuki?" 

"Oh,  for  liddle  while,  jus'  liddle  bit 
while,  bear  with  me,"  she  said. 

"  Little  while!  What  do  you  mean?" 
he  demanded. 

She  tried  to  regain  her  composure. 
Her  laughter  was  piteous. 

"I  only  liddle  bit  skeered,"  she  said. 
"I — "  she  stammered — "I  skeered  'bout 
thad  liddle  foolish  jade  bracelet,  all 
smashed  and  broken." 

"  Is  that  all?" 

"  It  is  soach  a  bad  omen !  The  gods 
trying  to  separate  us,  mebbe." 

I--6 


A    BAD    OMEN 

"  Separate  us?"  His  suspicions  were 
growing.  "How  can  they  do  that? 
It  lies  between  you  and  me,  such  a — 
such  a  fate.  The  gods — ah,  you  are 
talking  nonsense." 

"  The  gods  see  inside,"  she  said. 

"Inside  what?" 

"Our  hearts."  Her  voice  was  bare 
ly  above  a  whisper. 

"And  what  can  they  find  there  to 
distress  you?"  he  asked,  almost  fiercely. 
She  was  hurting  him  with  her  failure  to 
confide  in  him. 

"The  bracelet — "  she  began.  "It  is 
broken,  an'  love,  too,  mus'  die — an' 
break!" 

From  that  day  her  melancholy  grew 
rather  than  diminished.  But  she  had 
roused  her  husband's  suspicions,  and 
her  morbidness  irritated  rather  than  ap 
pealed  to  him.  He  felt  that  in  some 
way  he  was  being  deceived.  The  day 
that  he  found  her  wardrobe  neatly  and 
carefully  folded  away  in  her  queer  little 
packing-case,  as  though  in  preparation 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

for  a  journey,  the  full  sense  of  her  deceit 
dawned  upon  him.  Hitherto  when  she 
had  left  him  she  had  taken  none  of  her 
belongings  with  her.  He  perceived  it 
was  now  her  intention  to  desert  him 
utterly.  He  had  served  her  purpose, 
apparently,  and  she  was  through  with 
him. 

His  wrath  burst  its  bounds.  He 
had  not  known  the  capabilities  of  his 
angry  passion.  He  tore  the  silken 
garments  from  the  box  with  the  fierce 
madness  of  one  demented,  then  he 
pushed  her  into  the  room,  and  showed 
her  where  they  lay  scattered. 

"The  meaning  of  this?"  he  demand 
ed,  white  to  the  lips  with  the  intensity 
of  his  passion. 

She  remained  mute.  She  did  not 
even  trouble  to  mock  or  laugh  at  him, 
nor  would  she  weep.  She  seemed 
dazed  and  bewildered,  and  he,  infuri 
ated  against  her,  said  things  which 
rankled  in  his  conscience  for  years 
afterwards. 

128 


A    BAD    OMEN 

"Does  a  promise  mean  nothing  to 
you — a  promise — an  oath  itself  ?  Were 
you,  parrot  -  like,  merely  echoing  my 
words  when  you  swore  to  stay  by  me 
until — "  his  voice  broke — "death?" 

Still  she  made  him  no  denial,  and 
her  silence  maddened  him,  and  drove 
him  on  with  his  bitter  arraignment. 

"  What  your  object  has  been  I  fail  to 
see,  but  you  cannot  deny  that  you  have 
laid  yourself  out,  have  used  every  effort, 
every  art  and  wile,  of  which  you  are 
mistress,  to  make  me  believe  in  you. 
And  I — I — like  a  blind,  deluded  fool — 
ah,  Yuki — there  is  something  wrong, 
some  hideous  mistake  somewhere,  You 
have  some  secret,  some  trouble.  Be 
frank  with  me.  Can't  you  see — under 
stand  how  I — I  am  suffering?" 

She  roused  herself  with  an  effort,  but 
her  words  were  pitifully  conventional. 
She  apologized  for  the  trouble  and 
noise  she  had  brought  into  his  house. 

"You  have  not  answered  me!"  he 
cried.  "  What  was  your  intention?  Did 
i  129 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

you  intend  to  leave  me?  You  shall  an 
swer  me  that!" 

"It  was  bedder  so,"  she  said,  and 
her  voice  fainted.  She  could  speak 
no  further. 

"Then  such  was  your  intention!" 
He  could  hardly  believe  her  words. 


XI 

THE  NIGHTINGALE 

WHEN  Love  lives  after  Trust  is  dead, 
then  peace  is  an  unknown  quantity. 
A  constraint  that  was  baffling  in  its 
intense  hopelessness  now  hedged  up 
between  these  two.  Yuki  grew  thin 
and  wistful.  Her  whole  attitude  be 
came  one  of  pitiful  attempted  concil 
iation  and  humility,  which  with  bitter 
suspicion  her  husband  took  to  be  con 
fusion  and  guilt.  Had  she  even  af 
fected  somewhat  of  her  old  light-heart- 
edness  and  attempted  to  win  his  for 
giveness  by  her  old  audacious  wiles, 
her  husband  would  have  forgotten  and 
forgiven  everything,  glad  of  an  excuse 
to  renew  the  old  close  comradeship  with 
her.  But  she  made  no  such  attempt. 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

She  had  acquired  a  peculiar  fear  of 
her  husband,  and  unconsciously  shrank 
from  him,  as  though  dreading  to  bring 
down  on  herself  his  further  displeasure. 
She  kept  away  from  him  as  much  as 
she  could,  though  at  times  she  made 
spasmodic,  frantic  efforts  to  assume  her 
old  light-heartedness,  but  these  efforts 
were  usually  followed  by  passionate 
outbursts  of  tears,  when  she  had  drawn 
the  shoji  between  them,  and  was  once 
more  alone  with  her  own  inward 
thoughts,  whatever  they  were. 

Meanwhile  her  husband  kept  the 
watch  of  a  jailer  over  her.  lie  was 
convinced  that  she  was  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  leave  him,  and  this  he  was  de 
termined  to  frustrate.  She  had  raised 
in  him  a  feeling  of  the  intensest  bitter 
ness,  which  amounted  almost  to  antag 
onism  towards  her.  And  still  beneath 
all  this  resentment  and  bitterness  a 
tenderness  and  yearning  for  her  threat 
ened  to  strangle  and  overpower  all  other 
feeling.  Her  apparent  fear  of  him 
132 


THE    NIGHTINGALE 

hurt  him  terribly,  and  caused  him  dis 
tractedly  at  times  to  question  whether 
he  had  been  as  kind  to  her  as  he  might 
have  been.  Then  his  mind  would  in 
evitably  revert  to  the  fact  that  she  was 
planning  to  leave  him,  and  his  resent 
ment  would  burn  fiercer  than  ever. 

By  a  common  dread  of  the  subject, 
both  of  them  avoided  alluding  to  it,  and 
for  this  reason  it  weighed  the  heavier 
on  their  minds.  He  feared  that  any 
explanation  she  might  attempt  to  make 
to  him  would  only  be  some  excuse  put 
forward  to  reconcile  him,  and  win  his 
consent  to  the  impossible  situation 
which  he  instinctively  knew  she  intend 
ed  to  consummate.  She,  on  the  other 
hand,  watched  wildly  to  turn  the  sub 
ject,  dreading  his  wrath,  which  she  was 
conscious  was  righteous. 

To  add  to  the  gloom  of  their  strained 
relations,  a  season  of  drizzly  wet  weather 
set  in,  which  confined  them  to  the  house, 
and  moreover  Yuki  was  grieving  and 
pining  over  the  loss  of  a  favorite  night- 
133 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

ingale  that  had  made  its  home  in  the 
tall  bamboo  out  in  the  midnight  gar 
den  of  their  little  home.  Jack  was  mis 
anthropic  and  cynical,  restless  as  it  is 
possible  for  a  man  to  be  under  such 
galling  circumstances,  yearning  never 
theless  for  things  to  be  as  they  had 
been  between  him  and  his  wife. 

One  night,  at  dusk,  after  an  excep 
tionally  sad  and  chilly  meal  in-doors, 
Jack  had  come  out  alone,  and  was 
trying  to  soothe  his  senses  with  a  fra 
grant  cigar.  Instinctively  he  was 
waiting  for  his  wife.  He  missed  her 
if  she  was  absent  from  his  side  but  a 
moment.  Suddenly  out  of  the  gloam 
ing  soared  out  one  long,  thrilling  note 
of  sheer  ecstasy  and  bliss,  that  quiver 
ed  and  quavered  a  moment,  and  then 
floated  away  into  the  maddest  peals  of 
melody,  ending  in  a  sob  that  was  ex 
cruciating  in  its  intense  humanness. 
The  nightingale  had  returned ! 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  trembling 
by  the  veranda  rail,  stared  outward 


IF 


THE  NIGHTINGALE   SONG 


THE    NIGHTINGALE 

into  the  darkness.  And  then?  Yuki 
came  out  from  the  shadows  of  their 
garden,  and  under  the  light  of  the 
moon,  beneath  their  small  balcony, 
she  looked  up  into  his  eyes,  and  mur 
mured  in  a  voice  thrilled  by  an  inward 
sob,  so  timid  and  meek,  so  beseeching 
and  prayerful : 

"I  lige  please  you,  my  lord!'"' 

"The  nightingale!"  he  whispered, 
with  hoarse  emotion.  "Did  you  hear 
it?  It  has  returned!" 

"Nay,  my  lord — tha's  jus'  me!  I 
jus'  a  liddle  echo!" 

She  had  learned  the  voice  of  the 
nightingale. 

\.  V-U 

With  an  exclamation  of  indescribable 
tenderness  he  drew  her  into  his  arms, 
and  for  a  few  moments  at  least  all  the 
misery  and  pain  and  constraint  of  the 
last  few  weeks  between  them  passed 
away  and  gave  place  to  all  their  pent- 
up  love  and  loneliness. 

As  he  held  her  close  to  him,  he  was 


conscious  at  first  only  of  the  fact  that 
she  loved  him,  that  she  was  clinging  to 
him  with  somewhat  of  her  old  abandon, 
and  then  he  felt  her  hands  upon  his 
arms.  He  could  almost  see  them 
shaking  and  trembling.  She  was  at 
tempting  to  release  herself!  Strug 
gling  to  be  free!  All  of  a  sudden  he 
released  her,  and  stood  breathing  hard, 
his  arms  folded  across  his  breast,  wait 
ing  for  her  to  do  or  say  something  to  him. 

She  did  not  move.  She  stood  before 
him,  with  her  head  down:  and  then 
her  blue  eyes  lifted,  and  timidly,  ap- 
pealingly,  they  beseeched  his  own.  She 
started  to  speak,  stammered  only  a 
few  incoherent  words,  and  then,  with 
a  half-sob,  she  unsteadily  crossed  the 
room  and  left  him  alone. 

Two  days  later,  upon  their  household 
gloom  came  word  from  Taro  Burton, 
announcing  that  he  had  arrived  in 
Tokyo.  Jack  rushed  off  to  meet  him, 
telling  Yuki  he  expected  an  old  friend, 
and  would  bring  him  home  that  evening. 

j? 


xn 

TARO  BURTON 

IT  may  be  that  Jack  Bigelow  first 
awoke  to  the  fact  that  for  months  he  , 
had  been  literally  living  in  a  dream 
world  when  he  saw  his  old  college- 
chum,  Taro  Burton — the  same  dear, 
old,  grave  Taro!  He  rushed  up  to 
him  in  the  old  boyish  fashion,  wringing 
his  hands  with  unaffected  delight. 

The  past  dream-months  rolled  for  the 
moment  from  his  memory,  and  Jack 
was  once  again  the  happy  up-to-date 
American  boy. 

Taro  had  been  delayed  in  America, 
he  now  told  the  other  frankly,  on  ac 
count  of  the  failure  of  his  people  to 
send  him  passage  money  until  about  a 
month  ago.  He  had  a  few  hardships  to 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

recount  and  some  messages  to  deliver 
from  mutual  friends,  and  then  he  want 
ed  to  know  all  about  Jack.  Why  had 
he  failed  to  visit  his  people  as  promised? 
How  much  of  the  country  had  he  seen? 
Why  were  his  letters  so  few  and  far 
between? 

Jack  Bigelow  laughed  shortly. 
"Burton,  old  man,"  he  said,  "I've  been 
dead  to  everything  in  Japan — in  the 
world,  in  fact — save  one  entrancing 
subject." 

"Yes?"  The  other  was  curious.  "And 
that  is—?" 


,    • 

being. 


"And  so  you  did  it,  after  all?"  said 
the  other,  with  slow,  bitter  emphasis. 
His   friend,    then,    was   little   different 
138 


"My  wife." 

"Your  wife!"  Taro  stopped  short. 
They  were  crossing  the  main  street  of 
Tokyo  on  foot. 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  laughing 
boyishly,  all  his  resentment  against 
the  girl  lost  and  forgiven  for  the  time 


TARO    BURTON 

from  other  foreigners  who  marry  only 
to  desert. 

"Did  what?" 

"Got  a  wife." 

"Got  a  wife!  Why,  man,  she  came 
to  me.  She's  a  witch,  the  sun-goddess 
herself.  She's  had  me  under  her  spell 
all  these  months.  She  has  hypnotized 
me." 

"And  still  has  you  under  her  spell?" 

"I  am  wider  awake  to-day,"  said 
Jack,  soberly. 

"And  soon,"  said  Taro,  "you  will 
be  still  wider  awake,  and  then — then 
it  will  be  time  for  her  to  awaken." 

"No!"  said  Jack,  sharply,  with  bitter 
memory.  "  She  has  no  heart  what 
ever.  She  likes  to  pretend — that  is 
all." 

"  How  do  you  mean?" 

"Simply  that  we've  both  been  pre 
tending  and  acting — I  to  myself,  she 
to  me;  she  trying  to  make  me  believe 
it  was  all  real  to  her,  at  any  rate  these 
last  two  months ;  I  trying  to  delude  my- 
i39 


A    JAPANESE    N1GHT1M.A1.K 

self  into  believing  in  her,  which  was 
more  than  my  conceit  was  good  for, 
after  all.  Just  when  I  was  sure  of  her, 
I  accidentally  discovered  that  she  was 
preparing  to  desert  me  altogether." 

"  She  apparently  has  more  sense  than 
some  of  them,"  said  Taro.  "  Her  head 
rules  her  heart." 

"  Oh,  entirely,"  Jack  agreed,  quickly, 
thinking  of  the  money  she  had  coaxed 
from  him  in  the  past. 

"And  you,"  Taro  turned  on  him, 
"have  you  come  out  all  right?" 

"Perfectly!"  the  other  laughed  with 
forced  assurance  and  airiness  that  de 
ceived  Taro,  who  was  somewhat  cred 
ulous  by  nature.  "It  wasn't  for  a 
lifetime,  you  know,"  he  added. 

His  reply  was  distasteful  to  the  high 
moral  sense  of  Taro  Burton — more,  it 
pained  him,  for  it  brought  to  him  a  sud 
den  and  deep  disappointment  in  his 
friend.  He  changed  the  subject,  and 
tried  to  talk  about  his  own  people.  He 
was  in  a  great  hurry  to  go  home,  and 
140 


TARO    BURTON 

would  linger  but  a  day  in  Tokyo.  He 
had  arrived  sooner  than  they  expected 
him.  He  was  hungry  for  a  sight  of  his 
little  sister  and  mother — they  were  all 
he  had  in  the  world. 

Jack's  spirits  were  dampened  for  the 
moment,  as  he  had  expected  his  friend 
to  remain  with  him  for  a  few  days. 
However,  he  got  Taro's  consent  to  ac 
company  him  to  his  home  for  dinner 
that  evening,  in  order  to  meet  the 
"Sun-goddess." 

Taro  was  ushered  with  great  cere 
mony  into  the  quaint  zashishi,  which 
was  supposed  to  be  entirely  Japanese, 
and  was  in  reality  wholly  American, 
despite  the  screens  and  mats  and  vases 
Jack  ran  up-stairs  to  prepare  his  wife 
to  meet  his  friend. 

The  girl  was  panically  dressing  in 
her  best  clothes.  The  maid  had  brush 
ed  her  hair  till  it  glistened.  Long- 
ago  her  husband  had  peremptorily  for 
bidden  her  the  use  of  oil  for  the  purpose 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


ot  darkening  or  smoothing  it,  so  it  now 
shone  a  rich  bronze  black  and  curled 
entrancingly  around  her  little  ears  and 
neck.  She  needed  no  color  for  her  lips 
or  cheeks;  this  also  her  husband  had 
forbidden  her  to  use.  She  looked  like 
the  picture  of  the  sun-goddess  in  some 
old  fairy  print,  her  eyes  dancing  and 
shining  with  excitement,  her  cheeks 
very  red  and  rosy.  She  was  irresist 
ible,  thought  her  husband,  as  he  held 
her  at  arm's  length.  Then,  to  her  great 
mortification  and  chagrin,  he  lifted  her 
bodily  in  his  arms  and  carried  her  down 
stairs.  And  thuo  they  entered  the  room, 
the  girl  blushing  and  struggling  in  his 
arms. 

Taro  Burton  was  standing  tall  and 
erect,  his  back  to  the  light.  He  was 
very  grave,  in  spite  of  his  friend's  mirth, 
and,  as  Jack  set  the  girl  on  the  floor, 
he  took  a  step  forward  to  meet  her, 
bowing  ceremoniously  in  Japanese  fash 
ion. 

Yuki  stood  up,  straightened  her 
42 


TARO    BURTON 


crumpled  gown,  and  hung  her  head  a 
moment. 

"  Yuki,  this  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Burton." 

She  raised  her  head  with  a  quick, 
terrified  start,  and  then  instantaneously 
hers  and  Taro's  eyes  met,  and  each 
recoiled  and  shrank  backward,  their 
eyes  matching  each  other  in  the  intense 
startled  look  of  horror. 

The  man's  face  had  taken  on  the 
color  of  death,  and  he  was  standing, 
immovable  and  silent,  almost  as  if 
he  were  an  image  of  stone.  The  girl 
sank  to  the  floor  in  a  confused  heap, 
shivering  and  sobbing. 

Jack  turned  from  her  to  Taro,  and 
then  back  again  to  the  crouching  girl. 
She  was  creeping  on  her  knees  towards 
Taro,  but  the  man,  having  found  the 
power  of  movement,  went  backward 
away  from  her,  aged  all  in  a  mo 
ment. 

He  tried  to  turn  his  sick  eyes  from 
her,  but  they  clung,  fascinated  as  is 
the  needle  by  the  pole. 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

And  then  Jack's  voice,  hoarse  with  a 
fear  he  could  not  understand,  broke  in : 
"Burton,  what  is  the  matter?" 
Suddenly  the  girl  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  rushed  to  Taro,  sobbing  and  en 
treating  in  Japanese,  but  the  terrible 
figure  of  the  man  remained  immovable. 
Jack  pulled  her  forcibly  from  him. 
"  Burton,  dear  old  friend,  what  is  it?" 
The  other  pushed  his  hands  from  him 
with  almost  a  blow. 

"She  is  my  sister!     Oh,  my  God!" 
Jack  Bigelow  felt  for  an  instant  as  if 
the  life  within  him  had  been  stopped. 
Then  he  grasped  at  a  chair  and  sank 
down  dazed. 

As  though  to  break  up  the  terrible 
silence,  the  girl  commenced  to  laugh, 
but  her  laughter  was  terrible,  almost 
unearthly.  The  man  in  the  chair 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands;  the 
other  made  a  movement  towards  her  as 
if  he  would  strike  her.  But  she  did  not 
retreat:  nay,  she  leaned  towards  him. 
And  her  laughter,  loud  and  discordant, 
144 


TARO    BURTON 

sank  low,  and  then  faded  in  a  tremu 
lous  sob. 

She  put  out  her  little  speaking,  be 
seeching  hands,  and  "Sayonara!"  she 
whispered  softly.  Then  there  was  still 
ness  in  the  room,  though  the  echoes 
seemed  to  repeat  "Sayonara,"  "Sayo 
nara,"  and  again  "Sayonara,"  and 
that  means  not  merely  "Farewell/'' 
but  the  heart's  resignation :  "  If  it  must 
be." 

Jack  and  Taro  were  alone  together, 
neither  breaking  by  a  word  the  tragic 
sadness  of  that  terrible  silence.  It  was 
the  coming  into  the  room  of  the  maid 
that  recalled  them  to  life.  Twilight 
was  settling.  She  brought  the  lighted 
andon  and  set  it  in  the  darkening  room. 

Jack  got  up  slowly.  The  stupor  and 
horror  of  it  all  were  not  gone  from 
him,  but  he  crossed  to  the  other  man, 
and  looked  into  his  dull,  ashen  face. 

"My  God!  Burton,  forgive  me,"  he 
said,  brokenly;  "I  am  a  gentleman. 
I  will  fix  it  all  right.  She  is  my  wife, 
145 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


and  all  the  world  to  me.  We  can  re 
marry  if  you  wish,  and  I  swear  to  pro 
tect  her  with  all  the  love  and  homage 
I  would  give  to  any  woman  who  became 
my  wife." 

"Yes,  you  must  do  that,"  said  the 
other,  with  weak  half-comprehension. 
''But  where  is  she?" 

"Where  is  she?"  Jack  repeated, 
dazedly.  They  had  forgotten  her  de 
parture.  A  dread  of  her  possible  loss 
possessed  and  stupefied  Jack,  and  Taro 
was  half  delirious. 

"  We  must  look  for  her  at  once,"  said 
Jack. 

They  called  to  her,  and  all  over  the 
house  and  through  the  grounds  they 
searched  for  her,  their  lanterns  scan 
ning  the  dark  shadows  under  the  trees 
in  the  little  garden;  but  only  the  autumn 
winds,  sighing  in  the  pine-trees,  echoed 
her  singing  minor  notes,  and  mocked 
and  numbed  their  senses. 

"She  must  have  gone  home,"  said 
the  husband. 

146 


TARO    BURTON 

"We  must  go  there  at  once,"  said 
the  brother. 

"It  will  be  all  right,  Burton,  dear 
old  friend.  Trust  me;  you  know  me 
well  enough  for  that." 

Taro  paused,  and  turned  on  him 
burning  eyes,  in  which  friendliness 
had  been  replaced  by  a  look  that  spoke 
of  stern  and  awful  judgment.  "Other 
wise,"  he  began,  but  paused;  then 
he  went  on  in  a  cold  hard  voice,  "  I  was 
going  to  say,  I  will  kill  you." 


XIII 

IN    WHICH    TWO    MEN    LEARN    OF    A 
SISTER'S  SACRIFICE 

JACK  BlGELOW'S  usually  sunny 
face  was  bleached  to  the  ashiness  of 
fear  and  despair.  He  was  so  nervous 
that  he  could  not  keep  still  a  moment 
at  a  time,  but  would  get  up  and  pace 
the  length  of  the  car,  only  to  return 
and  look  with  eyes  that  attested  the 
heartache  within  at  the  other  man, 
silent  and  grim.  Taro  seemed  the 
calmer,  but  well  the  younger  man 
knew  that  beneath  that  subdued  ex 
terior  slumbered  a  fire  that  needed  but 
a  breath  to  be  turned  into  avenging 
fury. 

At  last  they  reached  their  destina 
tion.  The  little  town  once  again! 
,4, 


A  SISTER'S  SACRIFICE 

But  this  night  Jack  was  not  alone. 
There  was  no  star  or  moon  overhead 
to  lighten  their  pathway ;  a  dull,  driz 
zly,  sleety  rain  was  falling.  In  silence 
they  left  the  car;  in  silence  plodded 
through  the  mud  of  the  road  and 
the  damp  grass  of  the  field  beyond. 
The  little  garden  gate  creaked  on  its 
hinges  as  they  went  through.  They 
saw  the  dim  outlines  of  the  old  palace 
before  them,  with  its  wide  balconies 
and  sloping  roofs.  Half-way  up  the 
garden  was  the  family  pond,  freshened 
by  a  hidden  spring,  and  the  little  wind 
ing  brook  which  wound  hither  and 
thither  showed  how  it  emptied  into 
the  bay  beyond.  There  was  even  a 
tiny  boat  moored  on  a  toy-like  island 
in  the  centre  of  the  pond. 

For  the  first  time  Taro  Burton  paused, 
and  looked  with  dreadful  eyes  at  its 
dull  surface,  which  even  the  darkness 
of  the  night  and  the  miserable  rain  could 
not  obliterate  entirely.  What  were  the 
memories  that  crowded  back  on  him, 
149 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


suffocating  him?  Here  it  was  that 
he  and  Yuki  had  grown  up  together. 
The  little  boat  was  the  same,  the  island 
as  small  and  neat,  the  house  seemed  as 
ever;  nothing  had  changed.  Yes,  there 
was  Yuki!  A  deep  groan  slipped  from 
his  lips. 

There  was  a  difference  of  seven  years 
in  their  ages,  but  a  stronger  bond  of 
sympathy  and  comradeship  had  existed 
between  these  two  than  is  usual  between 
brother  and  sister.  Their  nationality 
had  to  a  large  extent  isolated  them 
from  other  children,  for  the  Japanese 
children  had  laughed  at  their  hair 
and  eyes,  and  called  them  "Kirish- 
itans"  (Christians).  Until  he  was  seven 
years  of  age,  Taro  had  manfully, 
though  bitterly,  fought  his  battles 
alone.  He  had  been  a  queer,  brood 
ing  little  lad,  of  passionate  and  violent 
temper,  and,  apparently,  scorning  any 
overtures  of  friendship  from  any  one 
outside  his  own  household. 

When  the  little  sister  had  come,  the 
150 


A  SISTER'S  SACRIFICE 


boy  had  gone  suddenly  wild  with  joy, 
and  had  proceeded  to  bestow  upon 
her  the  same  worshipful  love  his  mother 
gave  exclusively  to  him,  for  Snow- 
flake  had  been  born  when  their  English 
father  lay  at  the  gates  of  death,  her 
tiny  soul  fluttering  into  life  just  as 
that  of  her  father  drifted  outward  into 
eternity,  so  that  to  Omatsu,  the  mother, 
who  was  passionately  absorbed  in  her 
grief,  her  arrival  had  been  a  source 
of  irritation.  But  Taro  had  carried 
her  to  the  family  temple,  and  had, 
himself,  named  her  "Snowflake" 
(Yuki),  for  she  had  come  at  a  time 
when  all  the  land  was  covered  with 
whiteness.  There  had  been  a  frost  and 
even  a  snowfall,  which  is  rare  in  that 
part  of  the  country.  Moreover,  she 
resembled  a  snowflake,  so  soft  and 
white  and  pure. 

How  was  it  possible  for  him,  after  all 
these  years,  to  come,  as  he  now  had 
come,  once  more  to  this  place  of  which 
she  had  always  been  a  part,  and  with 


A     JAPANESE     NIGHTINGALE 

which  she  had  always  been  lovingly 
associated  in  his  mind,  and  not  be  filled 
with  emotions  that  rent  his  heart.  She 
had  been  his  inspiration  and  all  the 
world  to  him. 

He  remembered  how  they  would  drift 
around  in  their  tiny  boat,  and  she, 
little  autocrat,  would  perch  before  him, 
her  eyes  dancing  and  shining,  while 
he  told  her  the  story  of  the  fisher-boy 
Urashima  and  his  bride,  the  daughter 
of  the  dragon  king.  And  when  he 
would  finish,  for  the  hundredth  time, 
perhaps,  she  would  say,  "See,  Taro- 
sama,  I  am  the  princess,  and  you  the 
fisher-boy.  We  are  sailing,  sailing, 
sailing  on  the  sea  'where  Summer 
never  dies,'"  and  he,  to  please  her 
fanc}r,  drifted  on  and  on  with  her, 
around  and  around  the  little  pond, 
until  the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the  west 
and  the  little  mother  would  call  them 
in-doors. 

Now  the  monotonous  drip,  drip,  drip 
of  the  rain-drops  as  \hey  plashed  from 
152 


A    SISTER'S    SACRIFICE 

the  weeping  willow -trees  that  sur 
rounded  the  tiny  lake,  fell  upon  its 
dull  surface  with  mournful  sound. 
Taro  groaned  again. 

When  he  had  knocked  loudly  a  man 
came  shuffling  round  from  the  rear  of 
the  house,  and,  in  reply  to  his  inqui 
ry  for  Madam  Omatsu,  informed  him 
gruffly  that  she  had  retired. 

It  did  not  matter ;  he  must  awaken  her, 
Taro,  who  had  found  voice,  told  him 
with  such  insistence  that  the  servant 
fled  ignominiously  to  obey  him.  They 
waited  for  some  time,  out  in  the  melan 
choly  night.  There  was  no  sound 
from  within  the  house.  Taro  ham 
mered  on  the  door  once  more.  Then 
a  faint  light  appeared  from  a  window 
close  by  the  door,  and  the  man's  head 
showed  again.  He  begged  their  honor 
able  patience.  He  would  open  in  a 
fraction  of  a  second.  He  was  very  hum 
ble  and  servile  now,  and,  as  he  admit 
ted  them,  backed  before  them,  bowing 
and  bobbing  at  every  step,  for  his 
i53 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

mistress's  entire  household  had  been 
taught  to  treat  foreigners  with  the 
greatest  deference  and  respect. 

"Go  to  your  mistress,"  said  Taro, 
briefly,  "and  tell  her  that  her  son  de 
sires  to  see  her  at  once." 

There  was  immediately  a  fluttering 
at  the  other  side  of  the  shoji.  Taro 
saw  an  eye  withdraw  from  a  hole. 
There  were  a  few  minutes  of  silence, 
and  then  the  shoji  parted  and  a  woman 
entered  the  room.  Her  mother-love 
must  have  prompted  her  to  rush  into 
the  arms  of  her  son,  for  she  had  not  seen 
him  in  five  years,  but,  whatever  her 
emotions,  she  skilfully  concealed  them, 
for  the  paltry  reason  that  her  son  was 
accompanied  by  a  stranger,  an  honor 
able  foreign  friend,  and  it  behooved 
her  to  affect  the  finest  manners.  Con 
sequently  she  prostrated  herself  grace 
fully,  bowing  and  bowing,  until  Taro 
strode  rapidly  over  to  her  and  lifted 
her  to  her  feet. 

She  was  quite  pretty  and  very  gentle 
i54 


A  SISTER'S  SACRIFICE 

and  graceful.  Her  face,  oval  in  con 
tour,  was  smooth  and  unwrinkled  as 
a  girl's,  for  Japanese  women  age  slowly. 
It  was  hard  to  believe  she  was  the 
mother  of  the  tall  man  now  holding  her 
at  arm's  length  and  looking  down  at 
her  with  such  deep,  questioning  eyes. 

"Where  is  my  sister,  Yuki?"  he 
demanded,  hoarsely. 

"Yuki?"  Madam  Omatsu  smiled 
with  saintly  confidence.  She  had  re 
tired.  Would  they  pray  wait  till  morn 
ing  ?  Ah,  how  was  her  honorable  son, 
her  august  offspring?  She  began 
fondling  her  boy  now,  stroking  his 
face,  standing  on  tiptoe  to  kiss  it, 
ecstatically  smoothing  and  caressing 
his  hands,  feeling  his  strange  clothes, 
and  laughing  joyously  at  their  like 
ness  to  those  of  her  dead  husband's. 
But  the  dark  shadow  on  Taro's  face 
was  deepening,  nor  would  he  return 
or  submit  to  his  mother's  caresses  till 
his  fears  regarding  his  sister  were 
stilled. 


1 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"Send  for  her,"  he  said,  briefly,  and 
she  knew  he  would  not  be  gainsaid. 

Send  for  herl  Ah,  Madam  Omatsu 
begged  her  noble  son's  pardon  ten 
million  times,  but  she  had  made  a  great 
mistake.  His  sister  had,  of  course, 
retired,  but  it  was  not  within  their 
augustly  miserable  and  honorably  un 
worthy  domicile.  She  had  gone  out 
on  a  visit  to  some  friends. 

Taro  undid  the  clinging  hands  and 
pushed  her  from  him,  his  brooding 
eyes  glaring. 

"Where?" 

Where?  Why,  it  was  only  a  short  dis 
tance —  perhaps  two  rice-fields'  lengths 
from  their  house. 

"The  house? — the  people's  name?" 

Madam  Omatsu  whitened  a  trifle. 
Her  eyes  narrowed,  her  lips  quivered. 
She  tried  once  more  frantically  to  pre 
varicate. 

The  people's  name?  She  could  not 
quite  recall,  but  the  next  day — the 
next  day  surely — 

156 


A  SISTER'S  SACRIFICE 

"Ah-h,"  said  her  son,  with  delirious 
brutality,  "  you  are  deceiving  me,  lying 
to  me.  I  demand  to  know  where  she  is. 
I  am  her  rightful  guardian.  I  must 
see  her  at  once." 

Madam  Omatsu  protested  with  faint 
vehemence,  but  she  did  not  weep.  She 
even  essayed  a  little  laugh,  that  re 
minded  Jack  eerily  of  Yuki.  In  the 
dimly  lighted  room  she  looked  strange 
ly  like  her  daughter,  save  that  she  was 
much  smaller  and  quite  thin  and  frail, 
whereas  Yuki  was  rosy  and  healthy. 

Taro  was  speaking  to  her  in  Japanese, 
in  a  sharp,  cruel  voice,  and  she  was 
answering  gently,  meekly,  humbly, 
consolingly.  Jack  felt  sorry  for  her. 
Suddenly  Taro  threw  her  hands  from 
him,  with  a  gesture  of  sheer  despair 
and  exhausted  patience. 

"  I  can  learn  nothing  from  her,  noth 
ing,"  he  said  in  English.  Then  he 
turned  on  her  again.  "Listen,"  he 
said:  "You  are  my  mother,  and  as 
such  I  honor  you,  but  you  must  not 

157  ~\k  I 

-Wv 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

deceive  me.  I  know  all;  know  that 
my  sister  was  married  to  an  American ; 
know  how  she  was  married,  if  you  call 
such  marriage.  They  do  not  consider 
it  so,  as  you  must  know.  WThat  do  you 
know  of  this,  my  mother?  It  could  not 
have  happened  without  your  knowl 
edge?" 

The  mother  broke  down  at  last.  All 
was  indeed  lost  if  he  knew  that  much. 
She  sank  in  a  heap  at  his  feet,  and  again 
the  other  man  was  reminded  of  her 
daughter. 

Taro  raised  her,  not  ungently,  curb 
ing  his  emotions. 

"Pray  speak  to  me  the  truth,"  he 
implored. 

"  It  was  for  you,"  she  said,  faintly,  in 
Japanese.  "  I  desired  it,  I,  your  mother ; 
and,  afterwards,  she  also,  she,  your 
sister.  It  was  a  small  sacrifice,  my 
son." 

"Sacrifice!  What  do  you  mean?" 
he  cried. 

"Alas,  we  had  not  the  money  to  keep 
158 


A    SISTER'S    SACRIFICE 

you  at  the  American  school,  and  later, 
when  you  desired  to  return,  it  was  still 
harder." 

"Oh,  my  God!" 

She  went  on,  speaking  brokenly  in 
Japanese.  After  he  had  gone  to  Amer 
ica  their  little  fortune  had  been  swept 
away,  but  of  this  they  had  kept  him  in 
ignorance,  fearing  that  he  would  not 
remain  in  the  university  did  he  know 
how  poor  they  had  become.  The  house 
belonged  to  him;  they  could  not  sell  it. 
There  had  been  but  poor  crops  in  their 
few  remaining  acres  of  rice-fields ;  their 
income  became  smaller  and  smaller. 
One  by  one  their  servants  and  coolies 
had  to  be  sacrificed,  till  there  were  only 
a  very  few  left,  and  these  refused  to 
be  paid  for  their  services.  They  had 
secured  money  in  what  manner  they 
could,  and  sent  it  to  him.  It  was  hard, 
but  they  loved  him. 

Then  Yuki,  unknown  to  her  mother, 
.had  gone  up  to  Tokyo  each  day  and 
learned  the  arts  of  the  geisha;  later 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

she  invented  dances  and  songs  of  her 
own,  and  soon  she  was  able  to  com 
mand  a  good  price  at  one  of  the  chief 
tea-gardens  in  Tokyo. 

This  for  a  season  had  brought  them 
in  a  fair  income,  and  for  a  time  they 
were  enabled  to  send  him  even  more 
than  the  usual  allowance.  Then  came 
his  request  for  his  passage  money. 
Alas!  they  were  but  weak  and  silly 
women.  They  had  forgotten  to  save 
against  this  event  in  their  desire  to 
keep  him  in  comfort.  Nakodas  had 
approached  Yuki,  and  tempting  offers 
were  made  to  her.  She  had  resisted 
all  of  them,  for  she  was  then  below 
the  age  when  girls  usually  marry,  but 
sixteen  years  of  age.  Only  when  it 
became  imperative  to  raise  the  passage 
money  would  she  even  listen  to  the 
pursuasion  of  her  mother  and  of  the 
nakoda.  They  had  pointed  out  to 
her  the  great  advantage,  and  finally,  as 
the  brother's  letters  grew  more  insistent, 
she  had  broken  down  and  given  in. 
160 


A    SISTER'S    SACRIFICE 

fter  that  time  she  had  assisted  them  in 
their  efforts  to  secure  her  a  suitable 
husband.  They  had  been  exceptionally 
successful,  for  she  had  married  a  for 
eigner  who  would  likely  leave  her  soon, 
which  was  fortunate  in  Omatsu's  mind, 
one  whose  excellent  virtues  and  whose 
wealth  were  above  question.  This  was 
all  there  was  to  tell.  She  prayed  and 
besought  her  honorable  son's  pardon. 

During  her  recital  Taro  had  leaned 
towards  her,  listening  with  bated  breath 
to  every  word  that  escaped  her  lips. 
His  thin,  nervous  face  was  horribly 
drawn,  his  hands  were  clinched  tightly 
at  his  side,  his  whole  form  was  quiver 
ing.  He  tried  to  regain  his  scattered 
senses,  and  his  hand  vaguely  wrandered 
to  his  brow,  pushing  back  the  thick 
black  hair  that  had  fallen  over  it. 

"You  cannot  understand,"  he  said 
to  the  other  man,  his  voice  scarcely 
recognizable  for  its  labor.  "It  was 
for  me,  me,  my  little  sister  sold  her 
self.  To  keep  me  in  comfort  and  ease! 
L  161 


A     JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Snowflake  for  me!  And  they  kept  me 
in  ignorance.  I  did  not  even  dream 
they  were  in  straitened  circumstances. 
Oh,  had  I  not  willing  hands  and  an 
eager  heart  to  work,  to  slave  for  them? 
Why  should  the  whole  burden  have 
fallen  on  her,  my  little,  frail  sister?  But 
it  has  always  been  so.  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  justice  in  this  land  for 
the  woman." 

Jack  heard  him  raving,  understood, 
and  bowed  his  head  in  impotent  sor 
row. 

"Has  your  mother  given  you  any 
information  of  her  whereabouts?"  he 
suddenly  broke  in. 

Taro  had  forgotten  that  they  were 
seeking  her.  His  mother's  story  had 
held  all  his  attention.  The  horror 
aroused  by  that  recital  of  devotion, 
the  thought  of  the  months  of  her  sweet 
life  which  she  had  sacrificed  for  him, 
and  then  how  he  had  repulsed  her,  press 
ed  on  his  poor  numbed  senses.  But 
Jack's  inquiry  recalled  him.  A  thou- 
162 


A    SISTER'S    SACRIFICE 

sand  dark  surmises  regarding  her 
overwhelmed  him. 

"Yes,  yes — where  is  she?"  he  asked, 
huskily. 

She  had  been  with  her  husband  some 
days  now.  Madam  Omatsu  expected 
her  home  soon,  and  this  time  she  would 
never  again  return  to  him. 

Taro's  eyes  were  inflamed.  "And 
she  has  not  returned?  She  should 
be  here  now!  Ah,  it  is  plain  to  be  seen 
what  has  happened.  She  may  be  tak 
ing  her  life  at  this  moment.  It  is  what 
a  Japanese  girl  would  do.  She  had 
the  blood  of  heroes  in  her  veins;  she 
would  not  falter." 

All  of  a  sudden  he  turned  upon  his 
friend.  Then  the  full  agony  caused 
by  his  sister's  disappearance  and  her 
great  sacrifice  descended  upon  him,  and 
he  tottered.  Before  Jack  could  stay 
him,  he  swayed  forward  and,  as  he  fell, 
struck  his  forehead  upon  the  corner  of 
a  heavy  chair  that  had  been  his  father's. 
When  Jack  raised  the  head  of  the  un- 
163 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

conscious  man  he  found  blood  flowing 
from  a  wide  cut  over  the  left  eye. 

There  were  hurrying  feet  throughout 
the  house,  terrified  whispers,  and  sobs, 
and,  above  all,  a  mother's  voice  raised 
in  terrible  anguish. 


XIV 


A  STRUGGLE  IN  THE  NIGHT 

BY  day  and  night  they  kept  their 
unrelaxing  watch  by  the  bedside  of 
the  sick  man.  Ever  he  tossed  and 
turned  and  muttered  and  cried  aloud, 
one  word  alone  on  his  lips — his  sister's 
name. 

Tenderly  the  mother  smoothed  the 
fevered  brow,  softly  she  stroked  the 
restless  hands,  and  tried  to  still  their 
fever  between  her  own  cool,  soothing 
ones.  Thin  lines  had  traced  their 
shadows  on  her  worn  face ;  gray  threads 
had  come  to  mingle  with  the  glossy 
black  of  her  hair.  But  she  never  per 
mitted  herself,  after  that  first  night  of 
anguish,  to  betray  her  emotions,  for,  if 
she  did,  well  she  knew  she  would  be  re- 
165 


A     JAPANESE     NIGHTINGALE 

fused  the  precious  labor  of  nursing  her 
boy.  And  she  kept  her  sleepless,  tire 
less  watch  night  and  day.  Her  maid 
begged  her  to  lie  down  herself  and  rest, 
but  she  shook  her  head  with  bright, 
dry  eyes.  Rest  for  her  ?  While  he  lay 
tossing  thus?  Nay!  perhaps  when  he 
should  find  the  rest,  the  gods  would 
permit  her  also  a  respite;  till  then  she 
must  keep  her  watch. 

She  smiled  pathetically  when  the 
white-faced  American  boy  tried  to  in 
sist  that  she  should  sleep,  with  the  lit 
tle  air  of  authority  he  had  assumed  in 
the  household.  But  with  the  gentle 
smile  she  also  shook  her  head  in  ne 
gation. 

"  Let  me  take  your  place,"  he  pleaded. 
"He  is  dear  to  me  also." 

Still  she  smiled,  such  a  shadowy, 
heart-aching  smile,  and  turned  back 
to  the  sick-bed. 

Jack  Bigelow  went  back  to  Tokyo, 
and  began  his  vigilant  search  for  the 
missing  girl.  The  services  of  the  en- 
166 


A    STRUGGLE    IN   THE    NIGHT 

tire  metropolitan  police  board  were 
called  forth,  and  money  was  not  spared. 
The  nakoda  who  had  brought  about 
their  marriage  was  put  through  a 
vigorous  catechism,  but  he  could  tell 
them  nothing.  The  proprietor  of  the 
tea-garden  swore  she  had  not  returned 
to  him,  and  when  he  bewailed  the  mis 
fortune  which  was  filling  his  house 
and  gardens  with  officers,  Jack  consoled 
him  by  paying  liberally  for  the  loss  he 
claimed  he  was  suffering. 

On  the  fifth  day  the  mystery  of  the 
girl's  disappearance  still  remained  un 
solved.  Large  rewards  were  offered 
for  a  clew  to  her  whereabouts.  The 
police  were  sure  that  she  was  some 
where  in  Tokyo,  and  Jack  urged  them 
to  continue  unremitting  search  in  the 
city,  but  each  night  dawned  upon  their 
fruitless  efforts.  Now  some  one  had 
seen  a  girl  of  her  description  entering 
a  tea-house  on  the  eve  of  her  disappear 
ance;  another  had  seen  her  selling 
flowers  in  the  market-place;  and  yet 
167 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

another  swore  she  had  gone  on  board 
a  German  vessel  with  a  dried-up  for 
eigner.  This  last  person  could  not 
be  mistaken — a  Japanese  girl  with  blue 
eyes  and  red  hair.  But  each  clew  was 
found  wanting  and  proved  false. 

Then  back  to  Yuki's  home,  sick-heart 
ed,  disappointed,  weary,  went  Jack  Big- 
elow.  A  servant  met  him  with  the 
blessed  news  that  the  man  down  with 
brain  fever  was  improving;  that  a 
merciful  calm  had  at  last  come  to  him, 
and  that  now  he  slept.  Wearied  from 
his  fruitless  endeavors  to  find  some  clew 
to  Yuki's  whereabouts,  the  first  good 
news  in  days  unnerved  the  young  man. 
He  sat  down,  covering  his  eyes  with  his 
hands.  He  was  badly  in  need  of  rest 
himself,  but  his  mind  was  full  of  the 
mother  in  the  sick-room  overhead. 

Madam  Omatsu,  was  she  resting? 

No,  she  still  kept  her  watch,  but  she 
was  very  weak,  and  they  feared  she 
would  break   down  if    they  could  not 
prevail  on  her  to  rest. 
,68 


A    STRUGGLE    IN   THE    NIGHT 

Jack  went  slowly  up  the  stairs,  tapped 
softly  on  the  shoji,  and  then  entered 
the  sick-room. 

Taro  lay  on  the  heavy  English  bed, 
with  its  white  coverlets  and  curtains, 
his  face  upturned. 

"You  must  rest/'  Jack  whispered 
to  the  woman  with  the  wan  face  and 
wasted  form,  kneeling  by  the  bedside. 

She  shook  her  head,  resisting. 

"I  beg  you  to,"  pleaded  Jack,  and, 
though  she  could  not  understand  him, 
she  knew  what  he  was  saying,  and 
still  resisted. 

"Come,"  he  said,  gently,  and  put  his 
hands  upon  her  shoulders.  "See,  he 
sleeps  now.  It  is  well,  and  you  will 
be  too  weak  and  faint  to  minister  to 
him  when  he  awakes,  otherwise." 

But  she  protested  that  her  health  was 
excellent;  that  she  would  not  leave 
her  son.  He  stooped  down,  and  at 
tempted  to  raise  her  gently  to  her  feet, 
but  she  would  not  permit  him. 

He  saw  the  tired  droop  of  the  eyes. 
169 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

"  She  will  fall  asleep  soon,"  he  said  to 
himself,  and  so  sat  down  beside  her, 
putting  his  arm  about  her  and  pillow 
ing  her  head  on  his  shoulder.  She  did 
not  restrain  him.  She  looked  grate 
fully  into  the  frank,  inviting  eyes.  She 
sighed,  her  head  wavered  and  dropped. 
The  room  was  very  still  and  silent. 
Gradually  the  woman  fell  asleep,  and 
as  she  slept  she  sighed  from  ineffable 
weariness. 

Jack  looked  towards  the  silent  figure 
on  the  bed.  The  grayness  of  the  ap 
proaching  night  gave  the  face  an  ex 
pression  that  was  sinister  in  the  ex 
treme.  He  shuddered  and  averted  his 
face.  The  little  form  in  his  arms  grew 
heavier. 

"She  will  rest  better  lying  down," 
he  thought,  and  carried  her  into  the 
adjoining  room  and  laid  her  softly 
down.  Then  he  took  the  lighted  andon, 
and,  carrying  it  into  the  sick-room,  set 
it  in  a  corner  near  the  bed,  and  drew 
down  the  shutters.  After  this,  he  went 
170 


A   STRUGGLE    IN    THE    NIGHT 

back  to  the  bed,  and  stood  for  a  minute 
looking  down  on  the  sleeping  man,  an 
expression  of  infinite  sadness  on  his 
face.  Taro  stirred,  the  hand  lying  out 
side  the  coverlet  contracted,  then  closed 
spasmodically;  the  expression  of  the 
face  became  terrifying.  He  moaned. 
It  seemed  to  Jack  as  if  the  sleeping 
man  was  haunted  by  a  terrible  night 
mare  which  robbed  him  of  the  rest  that 
should  have  found  him. 

And  it  was  with  Taro  as  Jack  had 
thought.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  a  fever 
dream — a  nightmare.  He  thought  his 
little  sister,  Snowflake,  knelt  by  his 
bedside  and  soothed  and  ministered  to 
his  wants.  He  felt  rested  and  at  peace 
at  last;  but,  alas!  just  as  he  was  slip 
ping  into  happy  oblivion  a  dark  form 
loomed  up  beside  his  sister,  bent  over, 
and  clutched  at  her.  She  struggled 
wildly  at  first,  then  weakly ;  finally  her 
struggles  ceased,  and  she  lay  very  still 
and  white.  The  man  lifted  her  up  and 
carried  her  away.  After  a  time  he  came 
171 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

back,  and  now  Taro  felt  his  breath  on 
his  own  face.  He  was  bending  over 
him.  In  a  dim  haze  he  saw  the  face, 
and  recognized  it  as  that  of  his  friend, 
Jack  Bigelow!  He  tried  to  reach  out 
and  grasp  him,  to  strike  and  kill  him, 
but  he  was  at  the  mercy  of  some  invisible 
power  which  benumbed  him  and  held 
him  down.  His  limbs  refused  to  move, 
he  was  unable  to  lift  so  much  as  a  fin 
ger,  stir  an  eyelash,  and  all  the  time 
the  man's  breath  was  on  his  face,  steal 
ing  into  his  nostrils  and  suffocating 
him. 

Jack  noted  the  gasping  of  his  friend 
with  alarm,  and  stooped  over  for  the 
purpose  of  removing  the  pillow  to  give 
him  relief.  But  at  the  touch  of  his 
hand,  as  he  attempted  to  raise  the  head 
on  the  pillow,  the  life  blood  started 
vividly,  madly,  through  the  man  on 
the  bed,  and  suddenly  he  had  sprung 
into  wild  life.  Jack  saw  the  terrible 
gleam  of  two  delirious  eyes,  and  stood 
magnetized.  With  lightning  fur}T  the 


A    STRUGGLE    IN    THE    NIGHT 

raving  man  had  thrown  aside  the  bed 
clothes,  sprung  from  the  bed,  and  thrown 
himself  on  the  other  with  such  force 
that  the  two  came  to  the  ground  to 
gether,  the  madman  on  top. 

"  I  have  you  now !  —  traitor  1  be 
trayer!"  he  said,  as  his  hands  felt 
Jack's  warm  throat. 

Jack  had  been  taken  so  by  surprise 
that  he  was  dazed  in  the  first  moment, 
and  in  the  next  realized  that  he  was 
powerless  to  defend  himself.  He  was 
in  the  grasp  of  one  temporarily  insane, 
one  whose  lithe,  physical  strength  he 
already  knew  well.  It  would  be  useless 
to  fight  against  that  strength.  His  sal 
vation  lay  in  being  passive  and  feign 
ing  unconsciousness;  but  could  he  do 
this  with  those  terrible  fingers  closing 
around  his  throat,  throttling  the  life 
out  of  him?  Now  they  pressed  hard, 
now  relaxed,  now  caressed  his  neck  and 
throat,  rubbed  it,  pinched  only  to  press 
again.  He  was  playing  with  him! 
Jack  did  not  stir.  He  had  closed  his 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

eyes,  and  was  praying  for  strength  to 
meet  unflinchingly  whatever  fate  held 
for  him. 

"Where  have  you  put  her?"  came 
the  fierce  whisper,  close  to  his  ear. 
"Where  did  you  carry  her  to?  Hah! 
you  are  silent.  Have  I  silenced  you 
like  this  and  this?  You  are  cold;  you 
cannot  breathe  now,  nor  smile  nor 
laugh  at  her.  No,  not  while  I  have 
my  hand  here  to  press  so  and  so.  Once 
you  were  my  friend,  and  I  loved  you. 
But  now — so  you  killed  her!  Now  I 
will  kill  you  like  this  and  this  and  this !" 

Jack  was  becoming  weaker  and 
weaker.  The  white  -  shrouded  figure 
sitting  on  him  leaned  forward,  staring 
dreadfully,  but  his  victim  saw  nothing, 
heard  nothing.  Suddenly  it  seemed  as 
if  another  had  sprung  upon  him  and 
was  beating  his  life  out.  He  dimly 
heard  a  woman's  cries,  and,  intermin 
gled,  a  terrible  laughter.  Then  life  and 
consciousness  seemed  to  depart,  and  he 
knew  no  more. 


A   STRUGGLE    IN    THE    NIGHT 

When  he  regained  consciousness  he 
found  himself  on  a  bed.  A  woman 
was  leaning  over  him,  bathing  his  heads 
smoothing  and  caressing  it — a  woman 
with  an  angelic  face,  so  like  Yuki's 
when  she  had  nursed  him  during  a 
brief  illness  that  in  his  weakness  he 
fainted  at  the  mere  dream  of  her  sweet 
presence.  But  it  was  not  Yuki ;  it  was 
the  mother.  She  had  been  awakened 
by  the  talking  and  cries  in  the  sick 
room,  and,  rushing  to  the  door,  had 
looked  in  on  the  terrible  scene.  Jap 
anese  women  have  little  or  no  fear  of 
physical  disaster  for  themselves.  She 
raised  a  fearful  cry  to  arouse  the  house 
hold,  then  flung  herself  on  the  two  men, 
and  with  her  puny  strength  sought  to 
divide  them.  At  first  her  son  laughed 
and  resisted  her,  but  when  her  white 
face  flashed  before  him  his  grip  grew 
weak,  and  he  staggered  back,  dazed  by 
the  rush  of  returning  reason.  He,  too, 
had  taken  her  for  the  ghost  of  his  lost 
sister ! 

i75 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

The  alarmed  household  had  flocked 
into  the  room.  Gently  they  prevailed 
on  him  to  return  once  more  to  the  bed, 
as  weak  as  a  child  now. 

Jack  was  not  seriously  hurt.  In  his 
shattered,  nervous  condition,  however, 
the  shock  had  temporarily  unhinged 
him,  and  for  several  days  he  lay  in 
bed,  waited  on  and  attended  by  the 
gentle  Omatsu,  who  went  like  a  sweet, 
soothing  spirit  back  and  forth  between 
the  two  rooms,  who  called  him  "son," 
and  was  to  him  as  if  she  were  indeed 
his  mother,  till  she  could  not  approach 
him  but  he  kissed  her  hands  and  blessed 
her  from  his  heart. 


XV 

THE   VOW 

THE  happy  sadness  of  the  brown 
autumn  had  faded  in  a  yellow  gleam 
of  light.  December  had  entered  the 
land  with  a  little  drift  ot  frost  and  snow 
which  had  surprised  the  country,  for 
December  is  not  usually  a  cold  month 
in  Japan.  Its  advent  shook  the  little 
housewives  into  action  and  life.  New 
mats  of  rice  straw  were  being  laid,  and 
every  nook  and  corner  dusted  with  fresh 
bamboo  brooms  and  dusters,  for  the 
Japanese  begin  to  prepare  a  month  in 
advance  for  the  New  Year  season,  and 
all  the  country  seems  to  wake  into 
active  life  and  present  a  holiday  ap 
pearance. 

But  the  old  palace,  where  dwelt  the 


A     JAPANESE     NIGHTINGALE 

Burton  family,  kept  its  garment  of 
perpetual  gloom,  and  stood  out  in  mock 
ing  contrast  to  the  neighboring  houses. 
No  window  was  thrown  open,  no  door 
turned  in  to  air  the  place  and  give  it  the 
sunshine  of  the  coming  New  Year. 

Thick  as  the  dust  that  had  gathered 
about  its  unkept  rooms,  the  shadow  of 
death  pervaded  the  place.  Vast  shad 
ows,  mysterious  and  oppressive,  crept 
in,  enshrouding  it  with  their  ghostly 
presence.  From  afar  off  the  drone  of  a 
curfew  bell  was  heard,  its  slow,  mourn 
ful  cadence  seeming  to  drift  into  a  dirge. 
Outside  the  early  winds  of  winter  were 
wailing  a  requiem,  and  all  the  spirits  of 
the  air  floated  about  and  beat  against 
the  sombre  palace. 

At  dusk  consciousness  returned  to  the 
dying  man,  and  weakly,  though  intelli 
gently,  he  looked  about  him,  and  even 
smiled  faintly  at  the  wailing  and  moan 
ing  that  crept  upward  from  the  rooms 
below,  where  the  few  old  retainers  of 
the  household,  who  had  been  in  the  ser- 
178 


THE    VOW 

vice  of  the  family  long  before  Taro  had 
been  born,  and  had  stayed  by  them  af 
ter  their  fortunes  had  fallen,  were  hud 
dled  together  and  loudly  lamenting  the 
approaching  death  of  the  son  of  the 
house. 

Before  a  tiny  shrine  in  a  corner  of 
the  room  was  the  prostrate  form  of  the 
mother.  Her  lips  were  dumb,  but  her 
speaking  eyes  wailed  out  her  prayer  to 
all  the  gods  for  mercy.  And  at  the 
bedside,  his  face  in  his  hands,  knelt 
Jack  Bigelow.  Perhaps  he,  too,  was 
praying  to  the  one  and  only  God  of  his 
people. 

"Burton,"  he  said,  as  the  sick  man 
stirred,  "  you  have  something  to  say  to 
me?" 

He  bent  over  and  wiped  the  dews 
that  lay  thick  as  a  frost  on  lips  and 
brow. 

"My  sister — "  Taro  began  with 
painful  slowness. 

"My  wife — "  whispered  the  other, 
his  voice  breaking,  and  then,  as  Taro 
179 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

seemed  unable  to  proceed,  he  put  his 
mouth  close  down  to  his  ear. 

"  Burton,  our  grief  is  a  common  one. 
I  swear  by  everything  I  hold  sacred  and 
holy  that  I  will  never  cease  in  my  efforts 
to  find  my  wife !  Nothing  that  strength 
or  money  can  do  shall  be  spared.  I 
will  take  no  rest  till  she  is  found.  Be 
fore  God,  I  will  right  this  wrong  I  have 
unconsciously  done  you  and  yours — 
and  mine!" 

Taro's  eyes,  wide  and  bright,  fixed 
Jack's  steadfastly.  His  long,  thin  hand 
stirred  and  quivered,  and  attempted  to 
raise  itself.  Without  a  word  Jack  took 
it  in  his  own.  He  had  understood  that 
mute  effort  to  mean  belief  and  confi 
dence  in  him.  And,  kneeling  there  in 
the  melancholy  dusk,  he  held  Taro's 
hand  between  his  own  until  it  wras  stiff 
and  cold. 

Whither  had  the  soul  of  the  Eurasian 
drifted?  Out  and  along  the  intermi 
nable  and  winding  journey  to  the  Meido 
of  his  maternal  ancestors,  or  to  give 
180 

S^Sa 


THE    VOW 

an  account  of  itself  to  the  great  Man- 
God-three-in-one-Creator  of  his  father? 

The  mother  crept  from  the  shrine 
with  stealing  step,  her  white  face  like 
a  mask  of  death,  her  small,  frail  hands 
outstretched,  like  those  of  one  gone  blind. 

A  consciousness  of  her  eerie  approach 
thrilled  Jack  Bigelow.  He  dropped 
Taro's  hand  and  turned  towards  her, 
standing  before  and  hiding  the  sight 
of  the  dead  from  her.  In  the  dim 
shadows  of  the  deepening  twilight  she 
looked  as  frail  and  ethereal  as  a  wraith, 
for  she  had  clothed  herself  in  all  the 
vestal  garments  of  the  dead. 

With  somewhat  of  the  heroism  of  her 
feudal  ancestors  Omatsu  had  prepared 
herself  to  face  and  undertake  that 
perilous  journey  into  the  unknown 
with  her  son.  In  the  pitiful  tangled 
reasoning  that  had  wrestled  in  the 
bosom  of  this  Japanese  woman,  al 
ways  there  had  disturbed  the  beauty 
of  such  a  sacrifice  the  doubt  as  to 
181 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

whether  the  gods  would  indeed  receive 
her  with  this  son  of  hers  who  had  ded 
icated  his  soul  to  an  alien  and  strange 
God.  But  she  had  prepared  herself 
to  risk  the  consequences.  And  now  she 
stood  there  swaying  and  tottering  in 
all  her  ghastly  attire,  while  opjxxsite 
to  her  stood  the  tall,  fair-haired  foreigner 
with  the  pitying  gray  eyes  of  her  own 
dead  lord. 

She  essayed  to  speak,  but  her  voice 
was  barely  above  a  parched  whisper. 

"Anata?"  (Thou).  It  was  a  gentle 
word,  spoken  as  a  question,  as  though 
she  would  ask  him,  "Condescend  to 
speak  your  honorable  desire  with  me?" 

"  Mother  1"  he  only  said  —  "dear 
mother!" 

At  Taro's  funeral  Jack  Bigelow 
made  the  acquaintance  of  his  wife's 
family.  He  had  not  imagined  it  pos 
sible  for  any  one  to  have  so  many  rel 
atives.  They  came  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  distant  and  close  cousins 
182 


THE    VOW 

and  uncles  and  aunts,  and  even  an 
old  grandfather  and  grandmother,  the 
former  very  decrepit  and  quite  blind. 
And  they  all  lined  up  in  order,  and 
wept  real  or  artificial  tears  and  muttered 
prayers  for  the  soul  of  the  dead  boy. 

A  few  of  them  were  rich  and  im 
portant  men  of  high  rank  in  Japan; 
some  of  them  were  suave  and  courteous, 
coming  merely  for  form's  sake  and  for 
the  honor  of  the  family;  most  of  them 
were  of  the  type  of  the  decayed  gentility 
of  Japan — poor  but  proud,  dignified 
but  humble  in  their  dignity. 

They  all  regarded  Jack  with  the 
same  grave,  stoical  gaze  peculiar  to 
the  better-class  Japanese,  betraying  in 
no  way  by  their  expression  surprise  or 
resentment  at  his  presence  among 
them.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  none  of  the 
family  were  aware  of  the  relation  in 
which  he  stood  to  them,  and  so  had 
occasion  for  no  real  animus  against 
him,  regarding  him  merely  as  a  friend 
of  Taro's.  But  in  his  supersensitive 
183 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

condition  Jack  imagined  that  they  look 
ed  upon  him  as  an  intruder,  perhaps 
as  one  who  had  brought  distress  and 
havoc  upon  their  household. 

When,  however,  after  the  funeral  the 
little  mob  of  friends  and  relatives  had 
gradually  dispersed  till  there  was  none 
left  besides  himself  and  Omatsu,  the 
intense  loneliness  and  silence  of  the 
big  house  grated  upon  his  nerves,  so 
that  he  would  have  welcomed  the  wail 
ing  of  the  servants,  which  had  now 
been  buried  in  the  grave. 

Omatsu,  too.,  who  had  borne  herself 
with  heroic  fortitude  and  bravery  all 
through  the  day,  now  that  the  reaction 
had  come  was  shivering  and  trembling, 
and,  when  he  approached  her  with  a 
pitying  exclamation,  she  \vent  to  him 
straightway  and  cried  in  his  arms 
like  a  little,  tired  child.  He  comforted 
her  with  broken  words,  though  his  own 
tears  were  falling  on  her  little,  bowed 
head.  And  he  tried  to  tell  her,  in  ter 
ribly  bad  pidgin  Japanese  —  some- 
184 


THE   VOW 


thing  Yuki  had  taught  him  —  how  it 
would  be  his  care  to  protect  and  guard 
her  in  the  future  just  as  if  she  were 
indeed  his  mother;  that  he  was  not 
worthy,  but  he  would  try  to  fill  the 
place  of  the  beautiful  boy  who  was  sleep 
ing  his  last  sleep.  And  he  told  of  the 
promise  he  had  given  to  Taro,  how  his 
life  would  be  devoted  to  but  one  end 
and  purpose,  to  find  his  wife.  Would 
she  accompany  him? 

She  entreated  him  to  take  her  with 
him.  But  in  the  end,  after  all,  she  could 
not  accompany  him.  Her  health,  which 
had  never  been  robust,  gave  way  to 
her  grief,  and  Jack  took  her  back  to 
her  parents,  for  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  spare  no  time  from  his  search, 
and,  moreover,  she  was  too  delicate  to 
travel.  Before  leaving  her  he  saw  to  it 
that  she  and  her  parents  should  have 
every  comfort  possible. 

The    old    palace,    grim,    gray,    and 
haggard  in  the  winter  landscape,  was 
185 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

now  completely  deserted.  The  towns 
people  looked  askance  at  it,  as  at  a 
haunted  house,  knowing  somewhat  of 
the  tragedy  that  hid  within  its  closed 
portals. 

Jack  was  the  last  to  leave  the  place. 
Omatsu  had  begged  him  to  see  to  the 
closing  up,  and  the  paying-off  of  all  the 
old  servants.  When  he  had  finally  come 
out  he  was  shocked  at  the  curious  crowd 
of  neighbors  who  had  gathered  about  the 
gates  and  were  whispering  and  gossip 
ing  about  him  and  waiting  for  him.  But 
they  were  quite  respectful  and  silent 
as  he  passed  them.  He  was  an  object 
of  curiosity,  this  tall  foreigner  who  had 
married  among  them,  and  they  watched 
him  with  round,  wondering  eyes,  fol 
lowing  him  all  the  way  to  the  station, 
a  little,  pygmy  procession,  very  much 
as  children  follow  a  circus.  Once  or 
twice  he  half  turned  as  though  to  tell 
them  to  leave  him,  but  stopped  himself 
in  time,  remembering  how  strange  he 
must  really  seem  to  them. 
1 86 


THE    VOW 

At  the  station  he  bowed  to  them  grave 
ly,  and  his  bow  was  solemnly  and  polite 
ly  returned  by  those  in  front.  And  it 
was  in  this  strangely  pathetic  though 
grotesque  manner  that  the  tall,  fair- 
haired  barbarian  left  the  town. 

Less  than  a  jrear  before  he  had  been 
a  light-hearted,  joyous  boy.  He  was 
now  a  man,  with  a  burden  on  his  soul 
and  a  sacred  task  to  perform.  More 
over,  there  was  an  awful  abyss  in  his 
life  that  must  be  bridged.  Never  again 
would  life  have  for  him  the  same  rosy 
bow  of  promise,  not  until  he  had  found 
that  other  part  of  his  soul — his  Sun- 
goddess. 


XVI 


A   PILGRIM  OF  LOVE 

JACK  BlGELOW  went  up  to  Yo 
kohama,  where  the  Tokyo  detectives 
thought  they  had  a  clew  to  the  girl's 
whereabouts.  A  new  and  very  beauti 
ful  geisha  had  appeared  among  the 
dancing  -  girls,  and  as  no  one  seemed 
to  know  anything  about  her  history  it 
was  thought  that  she  might  be  the 
missing  Yuki.  But  she  had  disap 
peared  only  the  day  before  his  arrival 
there. 

Jack  spent  a  month  in  the  big  me 
tropolis,  shadowing  the  tea-gardens, 
and  watching,  with  the  assistance  of 
men  he  had  hired,  every  geisha  house 
and  garden;  but  though  many  girls 
apparently  answering  to  the  description 

* 


A    PILGRIM    OF    LOVE 

of  Yuki  were  brought  before  him,  none 
of  them  proved  to  be  the  missing  girl, 
and  the  disgust  the  young  man  ex 
perienced  at  their  total  unlikeness  to 
his  wife  was  only  equalled  by  his  bitter 
disappointment. 

A  telegram  from  police  headquarters 
brought  him  back  to  Tokyo.  Here 
he  was  told  that  the  detectives  had 
traced  the  missing  girl  to  Nagasaki, 
a  seaport  on  the  western  coast  of  Kiushu. 
This  was  the  city  where  Yuki's  father 
had  first  lived  in  Japan.  He  had  been 
the  son  of  a  rich  silk  merchant,  and 
had  come  to  Japan  in  order  to  extend 
his  knowledge  of  the  silk  trade  and  ex 
pand  his  father's  business.  But  Stephen 
Burton  had  become  infatuated  with  the 
country,  had  married  a  Japanese  wife, 
assimilated  the  ways  of  her  people,  and 
in  time  had  even  become  a  naturalized 
citizen.  He  never  returned  alive  to  his 
native  England,  though  strange,  cold, 
red-bearded  men  had  taken  his  body  from 
the  wife,  and  had  crossed  the  seas  with  it. 
189 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Old  Sir  Stephen  Burton  had  never 
forgiven  what  he  considered  the  me 
salliance  of  his  son,  and  hence  Taro 
and  Yuki  had  never  seen  or  known  any 
of  their  father's  people,  and  he  him 
self  had  died  while  they  were  yet 
children. 

Some  feeling  of  sentiment  might 
have  brought  Yuki  to  this  place.  More 
over,  there  were  many  public  tea-houses 
there,  where  she  could  quickly  find  em 
ployment.  The  police  were  positive  in 
their  statements  that  they  were  not 
mistaken  in  the  identity  of  the  girl 
they  claimed  to  be  Yuki. 

Travelling  by  slow  and  tedious  trains, 
with  no  sleeping  accommodations  and 
but  few  of  the  modern  luxuries  that  are 
necessities  on  American  trains ;  travel 
ling  by  kurumma,  with  the  flying  heels 
of  his  runners  scattering  the  dust  of 
the  highway  in  his  eyes,  when  the 
landscape  before,  behind,  and  around 
him  seemed  a  maze  of  dazzling  blue; 
travelling  on  foot,  when  he  was  too 
190 


A    PILGRIM    OF    LOVE 

restless  to  do  otherwise  than  tramp, 
he  was  weary  and  ill  when  he  finally 
reached  Nagasaki.  Here  an  amazing 
horde  of  nakodas  pestered  him  with 
their  offerings  of  matrimonial  happiness. 
He  had  no  heart  for  them.  They 
stifled  him  with  memories  that  were 
better  sleeping. 

The  tea-house  to  which  he  had  been 
directed  was  owned  and  run  by  an 
elderly  geisha,  who,  in  her  day>  had 
been  noted  for  her  own  beauty  and 
cleverness.  She  was  all  affectation  and 
grace  now.  She  met  Jack  with  exag 
gerated  expressions  of  welcome,  and  in 
a  sweet,  sibilant  voice  pressed  upon  him 
the  comforts  and  entertainments  of  her 
"poor  place." 

He  did  not  pause  to  exchange  com 
pliments  with  her. 

Was  there  not  in  her  house  a  girl, 
very  beautiful  and  very  young,  who 
sang  and  danced? 

Madam  Pine-leaf  (that  was  her  name) 
allowed  her  face  to  betray  surprised 
191 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

amusement  at  the  question.  Why,  her 
place  was  famous  for  the  beauty  of  her 
maidens,  and  every  one  of  them  danced 
and  sang  more  bewitchingly  than  the 
fairies  themselves.  But  she  only  said, 
very  humbly : 

"  My  maidens  are  all  unworthily  fair, 
and  all  of  them  indulge  in  the  honorable 
dance  and  song.  It  is  part  of  the  ac 
complishment  of  every  geisha." 

"  Yes,  but  you  could  not  mistake  this 
girl.  She  is  distinct  from  all  others. 
She — her  eyes  are  blue.  She  is  only 
half  Japanese!" 

"  Ah  -  h  !  —  a  half  -  caste. "  Madam 
Pine-leaf's  lips  formed  in  a  moue.  She 
was  very  polite,  however.  She  pre 
tended  to  consult  her  mind.  Then  she 
begged  that  he  would  remain,  at  all 
events,  and  see  for  himself  all  her  girls. 

Impatiently  he  waited,  a  terrible 
nervousness  taking  possession  of  him 
at  the  mere  possibility  that  Yuki  might 
be  near  him.  But  though  he  scanned 
with  almost  seeming  rudeness  the  faces 
192 


A    PILGRIM    OF    LOVE 

of  the  inmates  of  the  place,   none  of 
them  was  like  unto  her  whom  he  sought. 

When  he  paid  his  hostess,  who,  rec 
ognizing  in  him  a  generous  patron, 
had  been  careful  to  stay  close  by  him 
the  entire  evening,  his  face  betrayed  his 
exceeding  disappointment. 

The  woman  glanced  at  the  big  fee  in 
her  hand,  and  a  feeling  of  pity  and 
gratitude  called  up  all  her  native  pre 
varication. 

Now  that  she  had  spent  the  whole 
evening  turning  the  matter  over  in 
her  mind,  she  recalled  the  fact  that  only 
a  few  days  before  a  girl  answering 
exactly  to  his  description  of  his  wife 
had  worked  for  her  for  a  short  period,  but 
unfortunately  she  had  left  her  and  gone 
to  Osaka. 

Madam  Pine-leaf's  face  was  guileless, 
her  words  convincing.  There  was  gen 
tle  compassion  in  her  eyes,  which  added 
to  the  comfort  of  her  words. 

Jack  wrung  her  slim  hands  grate 
fully  till  they  ached. 
"  193 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

Osaka?  How  far  away  was  that? 
Did  Madam  Pine-leaf  believe  he  had 
time  to  get  there  before  she  would 
leave?  What  was  the  exact  address? 

Yes,  she  believed  he  would  be  in  time, 
and  she  drew  out  a  dainty  tablet  and 
wrote  an  address  upon  it,  and  with 
deep  and  graceful  obeisances  she  pray 
ed  that  the  gods  would  accompany  and 
guide  him. 

He  reached  Osaka  at  night,  when 
many  strange  canals  and  narrow 
vers  were  reflecting  the  lights  of  the 
city,  like  glittering  spear  -  heads,  on 
their  dark,  shining  surface.  The  hotel 
was  miles  from  the  station,  but  the 
streets  were  deserted,  and  there  was  no 
traffic  to  hinder  the  flying  feet  of  his 
runner.  At  night  the  city  seemed 
strangely  romantic  and  peaceful,  a 
spot  that  would  have  attracted  one  of 
Yuki's  temperament.  But  daylight  re 
vealed  it  as  it  was  —  a  bustling  com 
mercial  centre,  where  everybody  seemed 
194 


A   PILGRIM   OF    LOVE 

hurrying  as  though  bent  on  accomplish 
ing  some  important  mission. 

Jack  stayed  but  a  few  days  in  .Osaka. 
She  was  not  there.  The  proprietor 
of  the  Osaka  gardens,  hearing  his 
story,  humbly  apologized  for  the  fact 
that  while  such  a  girl  had  honored  for 
a  short  season  his  unworthy  gardens, 
she  had  left  him  now  some  days  ago. 
Whither  had  she  gone?  To  Kyoto. 

And  in  Kyoto,  the  most  fascinating 
and  beautiful  city  in  all  Japan,  he  was 
sent  from  one  tea  -  house  to  another, 
each  proprietor  acknowledging  that  one 
answering  to  the  description  had  been 
in  his  employ,  but  declaring  that  she 
had  left  only  a  short  time  previous.  She 
was  only  a  visiting  geisha,  who  moved 
from  place  to  place. 

Finally  he  traced  her  back  to  To 
kyo,  the  place  whence  he  had  started 
on  his  weary  pilgrimage.  She  was 
the  chief  geisha,  so  he  was  told,  of  the 
Sanzaeyemon  gardens.  With  his  brain 
swimming,  his  lips  almost  refusing  him 
195 


a 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

speech,  he  went  straightway  to  this  place. 
The  proprietor  received  him  with  mag 
nificent  humility,  and,  listening  to  his 
disjointed  questions,  answered  that  all 
was  well.  She  was  even  then  within 
his  honorably  miserable  tea-house.  For 
the  privilege  of  seeing  her  he  would  be 
obliged  to  make  an  honorably  insignifi 
cant  charge,  and,  if  he  (the  august  bar 
barian)  desired  to  take  her  away  with 
him,  a  further  fee  must  be  forthcoming. 

Waiving  these  questions  aside,  by 
putting  down  so  much  coin  that  the 
little  proprietor's  eyes  matched  its  glis 
ten,  he  followed  him  up  the  stairway 
to  the  private  quarters  of  the  more  im 
portant  geishas.  Into  one  of  the  rooms 
he  was  unceremoniously  ushered. 

A  girl  who  sat  on  a  mat  put  forward 
her  two  hands,  and  her  bowed  head  on 
top  of  them.  Jack  watched  her  with 
bated  breath.  He  could  not  see  her 
face,  and  the  room  was  badly  lighted. 
But  when  he  could  bear  no  longer  her 
perpetual  bowing  and  had  lifted  her, 
196 


A   PILGRIM    OF    LOVE 

with  hands  that  shook,  to  her  feet,  he 
saw  her  face.  It  was  that  of  a  stranger ! 

A  slight  illness  now  hindered  the 
progress  of  his  search,  but  he  would 
not  allow  himself  the  rest  he  needed; 
and  still  ill,  haggard,  and  a  shadow 
of  his  former  self,  the  young  man  once 
more  drifted  to  the  metropolitan  police 
station. 

They  had  exhausted  all  their  clews, 
but  they  were  kind-hearted  little  men, 
these  Japanese  policemen.  The  chief 
of  police  invented  a  story  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  one  of  Japan's 
poets. 

Yuki  was  somewhere  in  the  vicinity 
of  Matsushima  Bay,  on  the  northeast 
ern  coast  of  Japan,  near  the  city  of 
Sendai,  where  the  waters  flow  into  the 
Pacific.  This  was  a  spot  favored  by 
unhappy  lovers,  and  the  chief  of  police 
had  positive  evidence  that  a  girl  answer 
ing  to  her  description  had  been  seen  wan 
dering  daily  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
He  even  produced  a  telegraph  blank, 
197 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

with  an  indecipherable  message  in  Jap 
anese  characters  written  on  it,  purport 
ing  to  give  this  information.  His  ad 
vice  to  the  young  man  was  to  go  to 
this  honorable  place  and  stay  there  for 
some  time.  The  country  was  large 
thereabouts.  He  might  not  find  her  at 
once,  but  soon  or  late  surely  she  would 
turn  up  there. 

Jack  was  impressed  with  his  glib  re 
cital,  and  then,  moreover,  he  remem 
bered  that  Yuki  had  told  him  much 
about  this  place,  which  they  had  plan 
ned  to  visit  together  some  day.  He 
started  straightway  for  it,  buoyed  up 
with  a  hope  he  had  not  known  in 
months. 

Ancl  the  chief  of  police  snapped  his 
fingers  and  bobbed  his  head  and  clinked 
the  big  fee  he  had  received. 

"These  foreign  devils  are  naive," 
he  said  to  an  assistant. 

The  cringing  assistant  agreed. 
"They  believe  any  august  lie,"  he 
replied. 

198 


A    PILGRIM    OF   LOVE 

His  superior  frowned.  "It  was  for 
his  good,  after  all,"  he  returned,  tartly. 

In  the  city  of  Sendai  Jack  put  up  at 
a  small  Japanese  hostelry,  and  from 
there  each  day  he  would  start  out  and 
wander  down  to  the  beach  of  the  won 
derful  bay.  It  was  all  as  Yuki  had 
pictured  it,  with  her  vivid,  passionate 
imagery.  There  were  the  countless 
rocks  of  all  sizes  and  forms  scattered 
in  it,  with  strange,  shapely  pine-trees 
growing  up  from  them,  and  the  one 
bare  rock  called  "Hadakajima,"  or 
"Naked  Island/'  and  all  the  beautiful 
romances,  impossible  and  dreamy  as 
the  fairy  tales  of  a  classic  Oriental 
poet,  that  she  had  woven  about  and 
around  this  place,  came  back  to  his  mind 
now,  haunting  him  like  a  beautiful 
dream,  until  the  memory  of  her,  and 
the  influence  of  the  beauty  of  the  place, 
seemed  to  cast  a  mystic  spell  about 
him. 

For,  oh!  the  scenes  that  enwrapped 
the  bay!  The  slopes  and  hillocks  and 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

the  great  mountains  beyond  were  garbed 
in  vestal  white,  pure  and  glistening. 
The  snowflakes  had  tipped  the  branches 
of  the  pine,  and  there  they  hung,  like 
glistening  pearl-drops,  sometimes  drop 
ping  with  little  bounds  on  the  rocks, 
there  to  freeze  or  melt  into  the  bay. 

And  some  vague  fancy,  baffling  in 
its  hopelessness,  nevertheless,  clung 
to  him  that  possibly  she  might  have 
come  hither  to  this  peaceful  spot,  far 
from  the  scenes  where  they  had  loved 
and  suffered  so  deeply,  for,  with  un 
erring  insight,  Jack  knew  that  she 
had  loved  him.  Bit  by  bit  he  traced 
backward  in  his  mind  every  proof 
she  had  given  him  of  this,  and  now, 
when  the  sorrow  of  her  loss  seemed 
more  than  he  could  bear,  the  knowledge 
of  this  upheld  and  cheered  him  always. 

But  the  beauty  of  Matsushima  could 
give  him  no  peace  of  mind  or  soul,  for 
he  was  alone!  The  stillness  and  si 
lence  of  the  very  atmosphere,  the  tall 
pine-trees,  bending  gracefully  in  the 

200 


A    PILGRIM   OF  LOVE 

swaying,  swinging  breezes,  seemed  to 
mock  him  with  their  calm  content.  The 
bay  was  enchanted — yes,  but  haunted 
too — haunted  by  the  imagination  of 
the  little  feet  that  had  perhaps  wan 
dered  along  its  shore. 

In  a  little  village  only  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  beach,  inhabited  by  a 
few  simple,  honest  fisher -folk,  Jack 
tried  to  ascertain  whether  they  had 
seen  aught  of  her  he  sought.  But 
they  babbled  fairy  stories  back  at  him. 
There  had  been  many,  many  witch- 
maids  who  had  haunted  the  shores  of 
Matsushima;  many  young  girls,  who 
had  lost  their  minds  through  unfort 
unate  love  affairs,  had  wandered  thither. 
They  were  the  ghosts  of  these  unfort 
unate  lovers,  who  had  sought  in  death 
the  bliss  of  love  denied  them  in  life, 
which  now  haunted  the  shore  of  the  bay. 

That  the  strange,  fair  man  who  had 
lost  his  bride  would  meet  the  same 
untimely  though  poetic  fate  the  simple 
people  never  doubted. 

2OI 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

And  so,  like  one  who  has  lost  his 
soul,  he  wandered  hither  and  thither 
throughout  the  islands  of  Japan  in 
search  of  it. 

Sunshine  had  been  the  dominant 
element  in  Jack  Bigelow's  character, 
and  in  a  less  degree  impulsiveness  and 
generosity.  No  one  had  ever  given 
him  credit  for  intensity  of  feeling  or 
greatness  of  purpose.  But  sometimes 
tribulation  will  bring  out  such  qual 
ities,  which  have  lain  hidden  beneath 
an  apparently  superficial  exterior. 

A  deep,  abiding  love  for  his  summer 
bride  had  sprung  into  eternal  life  in 
his  heart.  She  was  never  absent  from 
his  mind.  There  were  moments  when 
for  a  time  he  would  forget  his  immeasu 
rable  loss,  and  would  drift  into  mem 
ory,  and  in  fancy  re-live  with  her  that 
dream  summer.  She  had  become  the 
soul  of  him.  She  would  remain  in 
his  heart  until  it  ceased  to  beat. 


YUKI'S  WANDERINGS 

HAD  Jack  followed  Yuki  on  the 
night  she  went  out  of  his  house  and 
life,  he  would  have  known  that  she 
was  not  to  be  found  in  all  Japan.  She 
had  hurried  from  his  and  Taro's 
presence  with  but  one  object — to  take 
herself  forever  from  the  sight  of  the 
brother  whom  she  had  loved  but  who 
had  repulsed  her,  whom  she  had  dis 
honored  in  trying  to  assist.  She  took 
the  road  for  Tokyo,  and,  head  down 
ward,  sobbing  like  a  little  child  who 
has  lost  its  way  in  the  dark,  stumbled 
blindly  along  until  she  had  come  with 
in  its  limits. 

She  had  no  idea  whither  she  was  go 
ing  now,  what  she  would  do;  her  mind 
203 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

could  only  contain  her  grief.  But  as 
she  wandered  aimlessly  about,  weeping 
silently,  an  address  slipped  itself  into 
her  consciousness — the  address  written 
on  the  card  handed  her  by  the  American 
theatrical  man  months  before,  when  he 
had  followed  her  from  the  tea-house. 
She  had  studied  the  card  curiously  at 
the  time,  and  now,  though  the  name 
had  escaped  her — she  had  really  never 
been  able  to  make  it  out  —  her  mind 
still  held  the  address. 

She  turned  in  the  direction  in  which 
she  knew  the  American's  house  lay, 
and  at  length  found  it,  wearied  both 
by  the  anguish  of  her  mind  and  by 
her  long  walk.  Yes,  the  American 
gentleman  was  in,  said  the  garrulous 
Japanese  servant  who  answered  her 
timid  summons.  He  had  returned  from 
lands  far  south  less  than  a  week  ago, 
and  now  in  two  more  days  he  would  be 
off  again.  Did  she  want  to  meet  him? 
Perhaps  he  slept. 

Yuki  said  she  would  speak  with  him 
204 


YUKI'S    WANDERINGS 

but  a  minute,  and  the  servant  van 
ished.  Almost  immediately  the  mana 
ger  appeared  before  her,  frowning  heav 
ily.  But  at  sight  of  her  his  face 
brightened  wonderfully. 

"Why,  if  it  ain't  the  girl  I  heard  sing 
at  the  tea-garden!"  he  cried.  "Come 
right  inside." 

And  he  eagerly  drew  her,  unresisting, 
within. 

Two  days  later,  on  board  the  Yoko 
hama  Maru,  Yuki  left  her  native  Japan. 

As  the  ship  weighed  anchor,  she 
closed  her  eyes  and  faintly  clung  to 
the  guard-rail.  All  about  her  she  could 
hear  the  passengers  talking  and  laugh 
ing,  a  few  were  cheering  and  waving 
flags  and  handkerchiefs  to  friends  on 
shore.  And  long  after  the  wharf  was 
only  a  dim,  shadowy  outline  she  still 
clung  there  to  the  rail,  her  hands  cold 
and  tense. 

Some  one  put  an  arm  about  her,  and  she 
started  as  though  she  had  been  struck. 
205 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


"You  are  not  ill  already,  you  poor 
little  thing?"  said  a  woman's  clear, 
pleasing  voice. 

Yuki  regarded  her  piteously.  She 
dimly  recognized  in  her  the  wife  of  her 
employer,  and  she  struggled  to  regain 
her  scattered  wits,  but  vainly.  She 
was  only  able  to  look  up  into  the  sym 
pathetic  face  of  the  other  with  eyes 
which  could  not  conceal  the  turbulent 
tragedy  of  her  soul. 

"  Why,  you  are  shivering  all  over,  and 
are  as  cold  as —  Jimmy,  come  over 
here,"  she  turned  and  called  peremp 
torily  to  her  husband,  who  hastened 
forward,  throwing  his  cigar  overboard. 

"  Look  here ;  she's  sick  already.  Bet 
ter  send  one  of  those  ayah  women,  or 
whatever  you  call  'em,  over,  and  have 
her  put  to  bed  right  away." 

They  undressed  her,  submissive  as  a 
little  child,  and  put  her  into  the  berth 
of  a  little  stateroom,  which  seemed  to 
Yuki,  who  had  never  in  her  life  before 
been  on  board  a  vessel  of  any  sort,  save 
206 


YUKI'S    WANDERINGS 


the  tiny  craft  about  the  rivers  at  her 
home,  like  a  tiny  cage  or  vault,  wherein 
she,  exhausted  and  weary,  had  been  put 
to  die. 

She  lay  there  with  the  surging  bustle 
of  the  ship's  noises  overhead  and  the 
tremulous  growl  of  the  waters  beneath 
the  ship  droning  in  her  ears  like  the 
melancholy  ringing  of  a  dying  curfew- 
bell  at  twilight. 

The  ayah  reported  to  the  manager's 
wife,  an  ex-comic-opera  prima  donna, 
that  she  was  resting  and  sleeping;  but 
when  that  impetuous,  big-hearted  wom 
an  peeped  in  on  her,  she  found  Yuki's 
eyes  wide  open.  She  whirled  into  the 
small  stateroom,  almost  filling  it  with 
her  large  person,  and  sat  down  beside 
the  poor  little  weary  girl  and  looked  at 
her  with  friendly  and  approving  eyes. 

"You  are  like  a  pretty  picture  on  a 
fan,"  she  said ;  "  the  prettiest  Japanese 
girl  I've  seen.  I  think  we'll  be  fine 
friends,  don't  you?" 

Yuki  could  only  assent  with  a  weary 
207 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

little  nod  of  her  head.  She  closed  her 
eyes. 

"  You  are  not  so  dreadfully  sick,  are 
you?"  said  the  American.  "I  thought 
maybe  we  could  have  a  nice  little  gos 
sip  together.  You  see,  my  husband's 
the  boss  of  this  whole  outfit  that  we've 
got  along  with  us,  and  I  don't  know 
that  there's  one  of  the  whole  lot  I've 
ever  cared  to  associate  with  before. 
You're  different.  Now,  ain't  I  good 
to  speak  out  just  what's  on  my  mind, 
eh?" 

"I  ought  to  thang  you,"  said  Yuki, 
feebly,  "but  I  am  too  weary  to  be  per- 
lite." 

"  Then  you  shall  be  left  alone,  you 
child,  you,"  said  the  other;  then  she 
kissed  Yuki  lightly,  and  went  out  of 
the  door. 

But  after  she  had  gone  Yuki's  pas 
sivity  left  her.  She  sat  up  quivering, 
and  then  with  nervous  quickness  she 
began  to  dress  herself.  She  could  not 
open  the  door  of  the  stateroom.  She 
108 


YUKI'S    WANDERINGS 

was  unused  to  strange  doors  that  re 
quired  the  pushing  of  springs  and  bolts. 
She  had  lived  in  a  land  where  bolts  and 
locks  were  almost  unknown,  where  a 
shoji  fell  apart  at  a  touch  of  a  hand. 
Now  she  pushed  hard  against  the  door, 
but,  as  she  had  not  turned  the  handle, 
it  refused  to  move.  A  terror  possessed 
her  that  they  had  locked  her  in  this 
tiny,  awful  cell,  to  which  penetrated  no 
light  save  that  which  filtered  through 
a  small  porthole  against  which  the  wa 
ters  beat  and  beat. 

She  flung  herself  desperately  against 
the  door,  battering  it  with  her  tiny 
hands;  she  felt  herself  growing  dizzy 
and  blind  as  the  ship  rocked  and  sway 
ed  beneath  her  feet.  She  tried  to  pace 
the  tiny  length  of  the  stateroom,  her 
sense  of  terrible  loneliness  and  home 
sickness  deepening  with  every  moment. 
The  moving  of  the  ship  horrified  her, 
and  the  knowledge  that  it  was  taking 
her  farther  and  farther  from  her  home 
across  the  immense  bottomless  sea  filled 
o  209 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

her  with  a  terror  akin  to  nothing  she 
had  ever  known  in  her  life  before. 

In  the  sickening,  wearying  dazzle  of 
the  few  days  previous  to  their  sailing, 
the  girl's  mind  had  held  but  one  thought 
— to  go  far  away  from  the  scenes  of  her 
pain;  now  perhaps  the  reaction  had 
come,  and  her  terror  at  the  step  she 
had  taken  appalled  her.  Memory,  which 
had  been  thrust  out  of  sight  by  the  ever- 
present  nagging  pain  that  had  blinded 
her  to  all  else,  now  asserted  its  power, 
merciless  and  invincible.  She  pressed 
her  hands  to  her  head,  as  though  to 
blot  out  forever  from  her  mind  the  piti 
less  ghosts  that  haunted  her. 

Like  the  wraiths  that  come  and  van 
ish  in  a  nightmare,  the  events  of  her 
life  came  to  her  one  by  one — the  happy 
childhood  with  her  brother,  their  pas 
sionate  devotion  to  each  other,  her  grief 
at  his  departure  for  America,  the  months 
of  struggle  that  had  followed,  sacrifices 
made  for  him,  her  attempts  to  make  a 
living  sufficient  for  his  maintenance  in 
210 


YUKI'S    WANDERINGS 

America,  and  then — her  marriage !  After 
that,  memory  held  no  other  thought  but 
the  immeasurable  craving  and  longing 
that  was  almost  madness  for  the  voice, 
the  touch,  the  sight  of  the  man  she  had 
loved  and  left. 

It  was  three  days  before  her  illness 
ended.  Then,  having  begged  the  con 
sent  of  the  woman  who  attended  her, 
she  crept  up  the  companion-way  and 
out  on  deck,  where  the  passengers  were 
disporting  and  enjoying  themselves. 

She  had  looked  forward  to  the  time 
when  she  would  regain  sufficient 
strength  to  leave  her  prison -cell,  for 
such  she  regarded  her  stateroom.  In 
the  strange  medley  of  ideas  which  had 
curiously  woven  themselves  into  a  maze 
in  her  mind,  she  had  imagined  that 
once  in  the  open  on  deck  she  would  see 
once  more  the  shores  of  her  home,  Fuji 
yama's  lofty  peak  smiling  against  its  ce 
lestial  background,  and  hanging  like  a 
mirage  in  mid-air. 

But  there  was   no   sight  visible  to 

211 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

her,  as,  with  her  hand  shading  her  eyes, 
she  looked  out  before  her,  save  a  vast, 
cold,  pitiless  waste  of  surging  waters, 
jumping  up  to  meet  the  sky,  which 
smiled  or  glowered  with  its  moods. 

In  the  months  that  followed,  Yuki 
met  with  nothing  but  kindness  from 
the  American  theatrical  manager  and 
his  wife.  With  them  she  went  to 
China,  India,  the  Philippines,  and 
finally  to  Australia.  From  all  these 
different  points  the  American  theatrical 
scout  drew  together  a  motley  troupe 
of  jugglers,  fancy  dancers,  wizards, 
fencers,  and  performers  of  one  sort  and 
another,  with  which  he  hoped  to  make 
a  larger  fortune  in  America.  He  had 
combined  business  with  this  long  pleas 
ure  trip,  for  he  was  on  his  bridal  tour 
at  the  time. 

By  some  remarkable  intuition  pecul 
iar  sometimes  to  the  gayest  and  most 
frivolous  hearted  of  women  of  the  world, 
the  wife  of  the  theatrical  manager  had 
212 


YUKI'S    WANDERINGS 

gained  some  insight  into  the  cause  of 
the  pitiful  sensitiveness  and  shrinking 
shyness  of  the  queer  little  Japanese  girl 
with  the  blue  eyes,  to  whom  she  had 
taken  an  extravagant  fancy. 

She  had  taken  Yuki  under  her  per 
sonal  charge,  and  sheltered  and  shield 
ed  the  girl  from  the  overbold  scrutiny 
of  those  with  whom  they  daily  came 
in  contact.  It  was  many  months,  how 
ever,  before  she  learned  her  history.  In 
fact,  it  was  only  a  few  days  before  their 
expected  departure  for  America,  the 
great  country  in  the  west,  which  seem 
ed  to  Yuki  as  far  distant  as  the  stars 
above  her. 

As  the  time  for  their  departure,  which 
had  been  delayed  already  much  longer 
than  the  manager  had  anticipated, 
drew  nearer,  Yuki  grew  more  depressed 
and  restless,  so  that  to  the  exaggerated 
fancy  of  the  American  woman  she 
seemed  to  be  fading  away  and  enter 
ing  into  what  she  emphatically  called 
"the  last  stages  of  consumption." 
213 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

She  cornered  the  girl  relentlessly,  and 
finally  wrung  from  her  the  whole  pitiful, 
tragic  story  of  her  life.  How  home 
sick  and  weary  she  had  been  ever  since 
she  had  left  Japan,  how  her  heart  seem 
ed  to  faint  whenever  she  thought  of  that 
final  interview  with  her  brother,  and 
of  the  immeasurable  longing  for  the 
man  she  loved,  and  whom  she  had 
married  "for  jus'  liddle  bid  while." 

All  the  big,  romantic  heart  of  the 
American  woman  went  out  to  her  as 
she  took  her  into  her  arms  and  mingled 
her  own  honest  tears  with  Yuki's. 

"You  sha'n't  go  to  America,"  she 
said,  drying  her  eyes  with  a  tiny  piece 
of  lace  which  served  as  a  handkerchief. 
"You  are  going  right  back  to  Japan, 
bag  and  baggage  of  you.  I'm  going 
with  you,  to  see  you  get  there  O.K." 

"  Bud — "  began  Yuki,  weakly. 

"Never  mind,  now.  I  know  he  ex 
pects  to  sail  in  a  week.  I  don't.  I'm 
boss!  See!" 


xvm 

THE      SEASON      OF      THE      CHERRY 
BLOSSOM 

IN  summer  the  fields  of  Japan  are 
alive  with  color  —  burning  flat  low 
lands  shimmering  with  the  dazzling 
gleam  of  the  natane  and  azalea  blos 
soms.  In  autumn  the  leaves,  as  well 
as  the  blossoms,  have  caught  all  the 
tints  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  in  winter 
the  gods  are  said  to  be  resting  after 
their  riotous  ramblings  during  th 
warm  months.  But  in  the  spring 
time  they  awake,  and  in  their  lavish 
renewed  youth  bless  hill  and  dale  and 
meadow  and  forest  with  an  abandon 
unlike  any  other  time  of  year.  It  is 
the  season  of  the  cherry  blossom,  of 
the  mating  of  the  birds,  the  babbling 
215 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

of  the  brooks,  and  the  chattering  and 
unfolding  anew  of  all  the  beauties  of 
nature. 

It  was  two  years  from  the  day  when 
Jack  and  Yuki  had  married  each  other 
in  the  spring-time.  And  Jack  was 
back  in  Tokyo.  Recalled  thither  by  a 
telegram  from  the  police  headquarters, 
he  was  preparing  to  depart  for  America, 
where  the  police  claimed  they  had 
positive  evidence  that  Yuki  had  gone. 
He  was  staying  at  an  American  hotel 
in  the  city  proper,  and  his  heart  on 
this  day  sickened  and  yearned  for  the 
little  house  only  a  few  miles  away  that 
he  longed  and  yet  dreaded  to  see  again. 

Now  that  he  contemplated  leaving 
Japan,  the  dread  possibility  that  Yuki 
might  still  be  in  the  country  and  that 
he  would  be  placing  the  distance  of 
thousands  and  thousands  of  miles 
of  land  and  water  between  them,  de 
pressed  and  weighed  on  his  mind,  de 
spite  the  really  plausible  proof  the  police 
board  had  that  she  had  gone  to  America 
216 


SEASON  OF    THE  CHERRY   BLOSSOM 

with  a  theatrical  company — that  of  the 
very  man  he  himself  had  witnessed 
coaxing  her  to  go  with  him. 

The  afternoon  previous  to  the  day 
set  for  sailing,  his  melancholy  and 
morbidness  grew  in  intensity.  With  no 
fixed  purpose  in  view  he  started  out. 
from  his  hotel,  tramped  half-way  across 
Tokyo,  then  hailed  a  jinrikisha  and 
gave  the  runner  orders  to  take  him 
to  the  little  house  that  had  formerly 
been  his  home,  and  which  he  had  strug 
gled  against  visiting  ever  since  his  re 
turn  to  Tokyo. 

As  in  a  dream  the  interminable  stretch 
of  rice-fields,  blue  mountains,  and  valleys 
and  hamlets,  stretching  away  into  misty 
outlines,  flashed  by  him,  and  he  noted 
only  half  absently  how  the  heels  of 
his  runner  were  all  worn  hard  just 
as  if  they  had  dried  in  the  sun. 
Yuki  once  had  called  his  attention  to 
this. 

"The  honorable  soles  are  the  same," 
she    had    said.     "It  .is    the    perpetual 
217 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

running.  The  gods  have  mercifully 
protected  the  feet  from  pain." 

The  landscape  about  him,  familiar 
as  the  face  of  a  mother,  gave  him  no 
pain  now.  He  was  conscious  only  of 
a  sense  of  ineffable  rest  and  peace,  as  a 
traveller  who  has  wandered  long  feels 
when  nearing  home.  And  soon  the 
runner  had  stopped  \vith  a  jerk,  and 
was  doubling  over  and  waiting  for 
his  pay. 

Should  he  humbly  wait  for  his  excel 
lency  to  condescend  to  return  to  the 
city? 

"Just  for  a  little  while,"  Jack  told 
him  absently.  And  he  went  through 
the  little  garden  gate  and  up  the  pebbled 
adobe  path,  now  arched  on  either  side 
by  two  rows  of  cherry  -  blossom  trees, 
that  met  at  the  top  and  made  a  bower 
under  which  to  walk. 

When  he  had  pushed  the  door  back 
ward  and  stepped  inside  he  paused 
irresolute,  his  heart  paining  him  with 
its  rapid  beating.  Coming  from  out 
218 


SEASON  OF  THE    CHERRY  BLOSSOM 

the  blaze  of  the  out-door  light  into  the 
shadowed  room,  his  vision  dazzled  him. 
But  gradually  the  objects  inside  grew 
upon  his  consciousness,  and  a  rosy  pain, 
an  ecstasy  that  stung  him  with  its 
sweetness,  shot  upward  like  a  dawn 
through  ail  his  being. 

He  scarcely  dared  breathe,  so  potent 
was  the  influence  of  the  place  upon  him. 
He  feared  to  stir,  lest  the  spell,  ghostly 
and  entrancing  as  the  influence  of  a 
magic  hand,  might  vanish  into  mistland, 
for  with  all  the  immeasurable  pain 
that  rushed  to  his  heart  in  a  flame  was 
mingled  a  tentative,  exquisite  pleasure 
— a  survival  of  the  old  joy  he  had  once 
known. 

And  there  came  back  to  his  mind 
whisperings  of  the  old  mysterious  ro 
mances  she  had  been  wont  to  ramble 
into.  What  was  that  tale  of  the  spirit 
which  haunted  and  was  felt  but  never 
seen?  Was  there  not  behind  it  all  some 
mysterious  possibility  of  such  a  spirit? 
For  the  very  furnishings  of  the  room, 
219 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 


the  mats,  the  vases,  the  old  broken- 
down  hammock,  and  his  big  tobacco- 
bon,  each  and  all  of  them  suddenly 
assumed  a  personality — the  personality 
of  one  he  loved. 

Stepping  on  tip-toe,  he  crossed  the 
room  and  stooped  to  touch  the  little 
drum,  the  sticks  of  which  were  snapped 
in  twain.  And  then  he  suddenly  re 
membered  how  she  had  broken  them 
because  he  had  complained  one  day 
that  her  drum  disturbed  him.  He  had 
liked  the  koto  and  the  samisen;  the 
drum  she  had  beaten  on  when  she 
mocked  him.  Now  the  sight  of  it  beat 
against  his  brain  and  heart. 

He  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  those 
little  broken  sticks.  He  tried  to  cover 
them  with  his  handkerchief,  as  if  they 
were  the  evidence  of  a  crime. 

"The  place  is  haunted!"  he  said,  and 
scarce  knew  his  own  hollow  voice, 
which  the  echoes  of  the  silent  room 
mocked  back  at  him. 

"I  shall  go  mad, "he  said, and  again 
220 


SEASON   OF  THE    CHERRY   BLOSSOM 

the    echoes     repeated,     "Mad!     mad! 
mad!" 

Then  he  covered  his  eyes,  and  sat 
in  the  silence,  motionless  and  still. 

From  afar  off  there  came  to  him  the 
melancholy  sweetness  of  the  bells  of  a 
neighboring  temple.  They  caused  his 
hearing  exquisite  pain.  What  mem 
ories  were  recalled  by  them!  But  now 
every  toll  of  the  bells,  slow  and  muf 
fled,  seemed  to  speak  of  baffled  hope 
and  despair.  There  was  no  balm  in 
their  sweet  monotone.  Would  they 
never  cease?  Why  were  they  so  loud? 
They  had  not  been  so  formerly.  Now 
they  filled  all  the  land  with  their  ring 
ing.  What  were  they  tolling  for,  and, 
ah,  why  had  the  ghostly  visitants  of 
his  house  caught  up  the  tone,  and 
softly,  sweetly,  with  piercing  cadence, 
chanted  back  and  echoed  the  sighing 
of  the  bells? 

The  house  was  full  of  music,  inex 
pressibly  dear  and  familiar.  He  started 
221 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

to  liis  feet,  trembling  like  one  afflicted 
with  ague.  And  gradually  words,  in 
a  fairy  language  that  he  had  learned 
to  love,  began  to  form  themselves  into 
the  melody  of  a  voice. 

Slowly,  painfully,  like  one  led  by  un 
seen,  subtle,  persuasive  hands,  he  went 
forward,  and  up  and  up  the  spiral 
stairs  till  he  had  reached  her  chamber, 
and  there  he  stood,  like  one  who  has 
come  far  and  can  go  no  farther. 

One  other  presence  besides  himself 
was  within.  This  he  knew,  and  still 
could  not  comprehend.  He  could  see 
her  plainly,  just  as  she  had  been  in 
life — her  little,  shining  head,  her  dear, 
small  hands,  the  long,  blue,  misty  eyes, 
and  the  small  mouth  with  the  little 
pathetic  droop  that  had  come  to  it  in 
the  last  few  days  they  had  been  to 
gether.  She  stood  with  her  hands 
raised,  dreamily  loitering  before  a  mir 
ror,  putting  cherry  blossoms  in  her  hair 
on  either  side  of  her  head.  But  at  the 
prolonged  silence  that  ensued  she  turn- 

222 


SEASON   OF  THE  CHERRY  BLOSSOM 

ed  slowly  about,  and  then  she  saw  the 
man  standing  silently  in  the  doorway. 

She  was  not  a  girl  to  scream  or  faint, 
but  she  went  gray  with  fear,  and  stood 
perfectly  still  there  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  Then  gradually  her  eyes  trav 
elled  upward  to  the  man's  face,  and 
there  they  remained  transfixed. 

For  a  long  while  they  faced  each  oth 
er  thus,  both  with  hearts  that  seemed 
not  to  beat.  Then  the  man  made  a 
movement  towards  her,  a  passionate, 
wild  movement,  and  she  had  dropped 
the  flowers  from  her  hands,  and  had 
gone  to  meet  him.  The  next  moment 
he  was  crushing  her  to  him.  When  he 
released  her  but  a  moment,  it  was  to 
hold  her  again  and  yet  again,  as  though 
he  feared  to  find  her  gone,  and  his  arms 
empty  once  more,  as  they  had  been  for 
so  long.  He  could  only  breathe  her 
name— "Yuki!  Yuki!  My  wife!  My 
wife!" 

Neither  tried  to  explain.  There  was 
time  enough  for  that.  They  were  ab- 
223 


A    JAPANESE    NIGHTINGALE 

sorbed  alone  in  the  fact  that  they  were 
together  at  last. 

Some  one  noisily  entered  the  house 
and  whirled  up  the  stairs.  It  was  the 
American  girl.  She  gazed  in  upon 
them  with  eyes  and  mouth  agape  in 
amazement. 

"Well,  I  never!"  she  ejaculated,  and 
went  out  and  down  the  steps,  sobbing 
aloud. 

"  Such  a  romance  1  Such  a  nice,  big 
fellow,  too!  And,  oh,  dear  me,  I've  lost 
her  sure  enough  now  forever!  Bother 
men,  anyhow!  and  she  jumped  into 
Jack's  jinrikisha  and  bade  the  man 
take  her  on  the  instant  to  Tokyo. 

Meanwhile  the  lovers  had  wandered 
out  into  the  open  air.  He  was  holding 
both  her  hands  in  his,  and  his  eyes  were 
straying  hungrily  over  her  face;  her 
eyes  bewitched  him;  her  lips  thrilled 
him. 

The  thousand  petals  of  cherry  blos 
soms  were  falling  about  them,  and  the 
224 


"  THE  THOUSAND   PETALS  OF  CHERRY  BLOSSOMS  WERE  FALLING 
ABOUT  THEM" 


SEASON  OF   THE  CHERRY   BLOSSOM 

birds  had  all  flown  to  their  garden  and 
were  twittering  and  bursting  their  little 
throats  with  melody.  A  fugitive  wind 
came  up  from  the  bay  and  tossed  the 
little  scattering  curls  about  her  ears 
and  temples.  A  strand  of  her  hair 
swept  across  his  hand.  He  stooped  and 
kissed  it  reverently,  and  she  laughed 
and  thrilled  under  the  touch  of  his 
lips. 

"  I  love  you  with  all  my  soul,"  he  said. 
"Do  not  laugh  at  me  now." 

She  said,  "  Dear  my  lord,  I  will  never 
laugh  more  ad  you.  I  laugh  only  for 
the  joy  ad  being  with  you." 

"I  will  take  you  to  my  home,"  he 
said. 

"  I  will  follow  you  to  the  end  of  the 
world  and  beyond,"  said  she. 

"  And  we  will  come  back  here  again, 
love.  We  will  take  up  the  broken 
threads  of  our  lives  and  piece  them 
together." 

"They  shall  never  again  be  broken," 
she  said.  But  he  must  needs  spoil 

r  225 


A  JAPANESE  NIGHTINGALE 

her  divine  faith.  "Till  death  do  us 
part,"  he  added. 

"No,  no.  We  will  have  the  faith  of 
our  simple  peasant  folk.  We  are  wed- 
ed  for  ever  an'  ever." 

"  Yes,  forever,"  he  repeated 


THE  END 


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